


Avatar: the Missing Moments

by Stotle



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, all the characters basically - Freeform, gaang bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 41,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25449775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stotle/pseuds/Stotle
Summary: Series of oneshots to fill in the gaps between the episodes of the series. Canon compliant. A good bit of Kataang. Some Maiko.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 76
Kudos: 211





	1. After "The Puppetmaster"

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1: When fears Katara has been trying to suppress come to the surface during a midnight training session with Aang, the young Avatar is there to support her.

A few days after "The Puppetmaster"

As Katara bent the water off her forehead to keep it from streaming into her eyes, she noticed Aang was no longer smiling at her newfound ineptitude. Gingerly, she rose to her feet, feeling the slow-rolling waves gently nudging the backs of her legs, soaking just the fringes of her white wrappings. This was the fourth time Aang had managed to knock her down tonight. Usually he managed no more than two hits per sparring session. This last time, it hadn't even been creative. She'd sent a jet of water at him and he'd easily caught it, split it in two, and returned the newly formed streams at her with merely acceptable gusto. But instead of turning his offense into hers as a master waterbender should, her arms had seemed to suddenly turn into earth. The jets had slammed into her right shoulder and left knee, depositing her facedown into the ocean.

"Need me to give you some pointers, sifu?" Aang taunted. He had plastered a smile back onto his face, but not quickly enough. She'd noticed his concern, the way his gray eyes seemed to change from cloud to smoke.

"Show respect to your master, pupil, or I'll tell Toph to give you two hundred boulder-presses instead of fifty," she retorted, but even this felt weak. She couldn't even threaten him by herself anymore. She had to invoke the name of his tyrannical earthbending teacher, who viewed sparring sessions as an excuse to abuse her student in the name of stopping the Fire Lord.

Aang laughed charitably, but even this was a ruse. Already his body was whirling into action again, summoning a wave to push her under the surf. Sloppy—this, she could handle. Katara spun, trailing her hands slightly behind her torso to swirl the water around her and back at Aang. He set his jaw, widened his stance, and actually managed to _slip in a wink_ before reaching out, palm open, elbow locked. The water jet burst outward against his hand and fell back into the sea with all the ferocity of an afternoon rain shower.

Katara stood still. She had never seen him pull a move like that. In fact, the only time she'd seen anyone do anything like that was— _no_ —the memories, the _feelings_ she'd spent the past few days trying to avoid came surging back like high tide. _The full moon hanging harsh, white, and bulbous in the summer sky, her joints and muscles seizing and screaming under the merciless grip, and the witch, through it all, grinning her rictus grin and laughing, laughing, laughing._

_The witch's spine stretching like a bowstring, Katara's own hands lowering as she bent her into submission, the awful cracking sound of ligaments and tendons as the witch went to her knees. No, as Katara forced her to her knees. And worst of all, "Congratulations, Katara. You're a bloodbender…"_

_"Congratulations, Katara…"_

"Katara!" Aang's voice snapped her out of her nightmare. He had run over to her, noticing her apparent paralysis. "What's wrong?"

"Aang…" She couldn't talk to him about this. She didn't want to be a burden, first and foremost, but, deep down, a voice that sounded a lot like Hama's needled her. _He'll never understand. You have the power, just like me. Nobody will ever see us as any different from each other._ "It's nothing. Let's get back to it. We have more to practice."

"It's clearly not nothing," he smiled wanly. "You should be kicking my butt, sifu. That's just the way things go."

"You want your butt kicked, go wake Toph," Katara replied shortly. "I'm sure she'd be more than happy to indulge you." She started to wade further out into the ocean so they could resume their sparring from an adequate distance, but he grabbed her hand. It was cool and smooth, covered in a thin glaze of seawater. "Talk to me," he asked. "I don't want to see you like this." He grimaced. Even in the dark, she could see his cheeks grow redder. "I mean—none of us do. You aren't acting like yourself. What's going on?"

Katara laughed bitterly. "But that's just it, isn't it? This _is_ myself now."

Aang raised a dark eyebrow. "What?"

"You wouldn't understand," Katara muttered. "The only person who would is locked up under a mountain."

"Locked up under a mountain?" His eyes widened. "Oh."

"Oh," Katara laughed humorlessly again, and pulled her hand from his grip, pushing past him in the other direction, towards shore. She supposed that their training was over for the night. He wouldn't let this go. At another time, with another issue, she'd appreciate that. Katara knew to some extent that he harbored feelings for her beyond just friendship. And she told herself that the jury was still out on whether she returned those feelings, but the reality was with each passing day she grew more sure that friendship wasn't going to cut it for her either. Predictably, Aang sidled up beside her, visibly considering his next words. It wouldn't matter. Nothing he could say would help her vanquish the darkness festering in her blood.

She spoke first, hoping to nip whatever he had to say in the bud before his savior complex could grow too strong to keep at bay for the night. "Aang, thanks for thinking of me, but really, I'll be fine. Hama is gone, she'll never bother me or anyone else again." Well, she mentally slapped herself, _that_ wasn't going to cut it. Even she didn't believe her own words.

"A minute ago you were completely frozen up, your bending his been weak all night when the moon is almost full, and a few days ago we went through one of the scariest experiences we've ever had. You don't have to keep whatever you're feeling to yourself," Aang pressed. Why did he have to be so _incessantly_ kind?

She weighed her options quickly. She could be vulnerable with him, possibly ruining his opinion of her, or she could continue to shut him out and let him bring his concerns to Sokka, who would demand she burden the whole group with his struggles.

"When I…controlled…Hama," Katara started, surprised at how quickly tears made their presence known in her eyes. "I felt power like I've never felt before. Not like any other full moon, not like when I've done some waterbending technique right for the first time. I felt invincible."

"And you hate that feeling," Aang finished for her.

"I hate that I have that power. I hate that she—she was right! I've bloodbent. I'm a bloodbender. I know what it's like to have complete control over somebody, and when the full moon comes again, I'll have the ability to use that power over anyone. The _feeling…_ " she didn't know how to finish the sentence without completely shattering any respect he had for her. "I—I wanted more. Even after the villagers put her in chains, I…wanted someone else to give me a reason to control them too." Aang was silent. Katara shivered as the cool sea breeze loomed over her skin. "The feeling was exhilarating," she continued. "I could've killed her with a twist of my hand. And maybe _she_ would've deserved it. But I don't want to be able to do that. At all."

Aang grimaced, putting a hand firmly on her bare shoulder so she stopped and turned to face him. "You're afraid of what you might do if you allowed yourself to use that power." The tears that had been looming over the edge of Katara's eyelids finally decided to fall, and Aang bent them off her cheek, casting them into the gentle surf.

"You're not Hama," Aang said. "You're _good._ You may be able to use that power, but you are not a bloodbender."

"I'm not good," Katara cried. "I _am_ a bloodbender. You saw it."

"You saved my life, and Sokka's. You saved dozens of people in that village." Aang paused for a moment, affixing her with a mild glare. "Never compare yourself to Hama."

Katara sighed. "I appreciate the words, Aang. But I was right. You don't understand." She started walking again. Aang caught up with her, again. She rolled her eyes and looked at him, not stopping her march to shore. "You're wrong," Aang said. "I do understand. How do you think I feel knowing any time I get angry I could kill someone, and I most likely wouldn't even realize I was doing it? How do you think it feels to have a thousand past lives telling me to glow it up every time we run into a Fire Nation patrol?" Aang lazily bent a thin stream of seawater, threading it around and between their bodies again and again. "I might not know what it's like to bloodbend, but I know how it feels to be afraid of yourself." With this, they reached shore, and sat down on the black sand, their upper arms resting lightly against one another.

"I didn't know you still thought about that," Katara admitted.

"Well, you do now," he chuckled sadly. "Being good isn't about not having darkness within you, it's about whether you choose to let darkness control you."

"You didn't just make that up, did you?"

"No," he said seriously. "Monk Gyatso said it to me right after I found out I was the Avatar."

"He seems like a great man," Katara said.

"He was," Aang confirmed. "The best I've ever known. By the time I ran away from the temple, he was the only one left who still saw me as Aang, not just the Avatar." At this, Katara was at a loss for words. So, instead of talking, she leaned her head into the crook of his neck. She breathed him in, as she always did when they embraced. A bit of salt and sweat tainted his normal scent—clean, fresh mountain air. He always smelled good, which she chalked up to an airbender perk.

Aang put his arm around her. "Just don't assume you're alone, okay?"

"Okay," Katara whispered. They stared at the moon, a waning gibbous. It didn't grant her the power of a full moon, but she still felt energized, keenly aware of the ebb and flow of the waves, the ripples in the tidepools, even the water coursing through the tree trunks. But, in the last few days, Katara had hated the strength she felt at night. It reminded her of Hama. She saw the moon as one of Hama's silver eyes, constantly watching her, needling her, whispering promises of limitless power and swift justice for all the atrocities committed by the Fire Nation if only Katara were to use it. "Aang," Katara said, lifting her head from his shoulder. She noticed him frown slightly. _I see Aang has none of my qualms about enjoying this…closeness._ "Yeah?" he asked, betraying no disappointment in his voice.

"This'll sound crazy," she said. But then she remembered what happened the last time she called a thought of hers crazy. _Nope,_ she thought. _Not the time to dwell on that_. "But I kind of…hate the moon now?"

"You hate the moon?" Katara gave Aang a lot of credit for keeping a measurable level of compassion in his tone, but he was clearly confused. Well, she was in it this far.

"It reminds me of her. Bloodbending can only be done at the full moon. So I associate the moon with Hama, rather than my own ability to waterbend to my fullest potential."

"I get that," Aang said immediately. Katara raised her eyebrows. Aang looked at her. "I do! But ever since the North Pole, I've just seen the moon as Yue. She and Roku saved my life when I ran away from our Fire Nation ship after Ba Sing Se."

"That was a colossally stupid idea. What were you, going to take on the whole Fire Nation by yourself?"

"I know, I know," Aang laughed. "But maybe you should think of Yue when you look at the moon. Think of what she did for all of us at the North Pole."

"Maybe I'll just think of you," Katara said. And she placed a hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek gently. The corners of his lips jumped upward before he could rein them in, and she snickered, barely audible. Now he was just sitting there, dumfounded, as if he was in the most un-tranquil, ungraceful meditative trance ever. The opportunity was too good to pass up. She stood up quickly, before he could react, and summoned a wave of water, freezing him to the ground upon contact.

"I did say we had more to practice, pupil," Katara teased. Aang melted the ice and jumped to his feet, assuming a waterbending stance and grinning ear to ear. Deluges of water glinted silver in the moonlight. By the time the moon bid them farewell, and the bruised, happy combatants walked back to their camp, the witch's specter had stopped haunting Katara's mind, forever.


	2. After "The Boiling Rock"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An imprisoned Mai is graced with Fire Princess Azula's presence.

Ten days after “The Boiling Rock”

“I thought you said you never wanted to see my face again,” Mai growled. She brushed her matted, overgrown bangs out of her eyes so she could stare the princess down with maximum wrath. 

“Mai, wipe that glare off your face, you’re much better off pasty and expressionless,” Azula drawled. She raised a hand contemptuously, pretending to check her sharply filed nails. “Although the pastiness seems to have remained unchanged.” Mai fought the urge to inspect her own skin. She was already pale, and two weeks in prison probably hadn’t worked wonders for her complexion. Whatever. There was so little else to stimulate her mind in this slum that she would make it her sole mission not to give Azula any perverse satisfaction for however long she would be gracing Mai with her presence. 

“But you’re right, I did say that. But duty has brought me here, to, let’s just call this your...new estate,” Azula sneered.

“Your duty,” Mai tried not to laugh. She had read legends, in her father’s library, of a spirit who stole the faces of those who betrayed emotion in its presence. Mai would’ve had no trouble with that monster. This one, on the other hand…

“Your duty to a country whose lord burned and scarred his own son for talking out of turn,” Mai said, mind furious but words impassive. 

“It worked, didn’t it? Your lover became our nation’s hero, the Scourge of Ba Sing Se, they called him. Now he, and you, are traitors and failures.”

Mai turned her back on the princess and retreated back into the dank corner of her cell. “I have better things to do than make small talk with you. The cicada-spiders are about to play their evening concert. It’s prime entertainment, I hope you’ll understand.” All of a sudden, Mai heard a crackling, grating noise, and before she could brace herself, a bolt of lightning hit her in the small of her back, dropping her to her knees on the hard floor. She pressed a hand to the spot the blast hit. Her jail “clothes” had undergone some significant alterations, and her skin felt mildly cooked, but already the pain was subsiding slightly. Mai turned around and faced the princess, but stayed sitting down. 

“I was going to say the same to you, Traitor. Turn your back on me again and I will show you what I can do with real lightning.” Azula half-yelled, her voice returning to its normal cold, calculating cadence as the venomous words flew from her mouth. Interesting, Mai observed, first on the gondola dock, now here. Guess I really did get to her. “You and Zuko, it really would’ve been a desirable match if you two had managed to behave,” Azula continued. “But your love still has its uses.” Mai noted Azula’s continued emphasis on ‘love’. It went beyond simple mocking of teenage hormones--Azula clearly had those, too. Could the most powerful woman in the world actually be jealous?

“Zuko wouldn’t have left you without saying goodbye. Not a very honorable thing to do, is it?” Azula taunted. Mai was silent, but fear of another lightning bolt kept her from turning her back to Azula. “My father told me little Zuzu planned on joining the Avatar.”

Really, she’s trying that trick? Mai almost called her on it, but caught herself. “I don’t know anything about that. I guess he isn’t honorable. He wrote me a letter with some stupid apology for leaving me. He didn’t say where he went.”

“Mai, if you told the truth, it would be so much less work for both of us,” Azula faux-whined.

“When has that ever stopped you?” Mai replied. When Azula started the motion to send another bolt of lightning. Mai jumped to her feet. “Wait! I am telling the truth!” Azula smiled. Mai set her mouth to its default straight line again. This was already more emotion than she wanted to show. Azula is the Face-Stealer, she reminded herself. “If Zuko’s with the Avatar, it’s news to me. I don’t know where they are, or what they’re doing.”

“Won’t you take your best guess, then?” Azula asked silkily. Clearly, she wasn’t believing a word Mai said. “If you were so in love with him, surely you’d know something about where he might have gone.”

“If asking me to take my best guess is really your strategy for tracking down Zuko, your father must be really angry with you.” I suppose showing emotion could be fine if I get to mess with her head, Mai thought. 

“No, I assure you, Father is happy with me, as usual. I imprisoned two little traitors who were plotting against the throne from within the princess’s inner circle.” Mai resumed the silent treatment. 

Mai took her turn to look at her nails. The black paint had mostly chipped off, little surprise there. The nails themselves, once elegantly filed into stylish yet intimidating points, were becoming more gnarled and disgusting by the day. Even her fingers themselves were starting to slim down a bit. The prison diet didn’t exactly stick to one’s ribs. 

“You can’t possibly think you can ignore me like I’m some servant offering a hot towel,” Azula barked. There it was again, far more noticeable this time. The princess was holding on by a thread. Mai just had to locate it, then sever it like one of that idiot Chan’s wall hangings.

“I’m not ignoring you, per se,” Mai said. “I don’t know anything. Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You can shoot as much lightning at me as you want, nothing’s as torturous as spending half a year traveling the world with you. And you can’t kill me.”

“Don’t be so sure about that, Traitor. Unlike with your boyfriend, Father actually wants me to succeed in finding the Avatar. He’s made it the highest priority of the Fire Navy. The world is only so big. We’ll either find the peasants, or their self-righteousness will compel them to mount another foolish offensive against the capitol city. The Avatar will die no matter what. Zuko too, if he’s indeed managed to get in good with their band. The only question is whether you will join them.”

Mai shrugged, exposing her too-visible collarbones. “I don’t know anything, but if it’ll make you feel better, kill me. I’m either going to live out the rest of my life here, or Zuko will have me freed once the Avatar wins the war.”

Azula didn’t respond to Mai’s astute calculation. “It doesn’t really matter whether you know anything or not. You know more about Zuko and the Avatar than anyone in the Fire Nation, with the possible exception of myself.” Azula’s tone suddenly shifted, becoming softer, a transparent but still unsettling shift to a sympathy ploy. “Think back to all those books we used to steal from your father’s library. Me, learning the glorious history of our great nation. You, actually concerning yourself with the tall tales of our, ahem, future colonies.”

Mai couldn’t contain a derisive laugh. “Believe it or not, I did like to read when you weren’t around. My world didn’t revolve around you. I read every book in that library. Most of them twice. I was bored, one can only throw so many knives.”

“But you still won’t humor me and sell out your boyfriend?”

“Sell out? What are you paying me with?”

“In exchange for a service to your country,” Azula drawled, taking her time with every word. “I will spare your life.”

Mai laughed again, fuller this time. It felt...nice. Huh, she thought, prison changes a girl. “Seems you’ve, once again, miscalculated,” she sneered. Azula’s eyes flared. Mai looked grandiosely at her four-walled kingdom. “My life doesn’t seem to be worth that much anymore.” Mai crossed her arms, letting a satisfied smirk taint the stone wall of her face.

But Azula was smirking too. “I suppose I should’ve expected that sort of disregard for self-preservation from someone with, oh, how did she put it, a dour and gray aura? No, that’s not it...guards, bring in the other traitor!” Azula called. 

Orangish light flooded the cell as two burly guards lumbered in, dragging a thin, chained figure with long, greasy hair tumbling freely down her sides.

“Mai!” Ty Lee tried to shout, but it came out as a whimper. She tried to run to embrace Mai, but her guards held her back before she could move an inch. Azula sauntered over to Ty Lee, motioning the guards to leave the cell. Then, she kicked the backs of Ty Lee’s knees, dropping the acrobat to the floor in a heap of brown hair and muffled cries. 

“I asked her the same questions, but I knew the odds of me getting an answer from this dum-dum were slim.” The princess laughed coldly. “I suppose her interrogation was more of a…” she pulled Ty Lee’s head back by the hair and lit a flame under her chin, illuminating a bruised face marred with rivulets of dried blood. “...Personal matter,” Azula finished. 

Mai and Ty Lee didn’t dare speak, so Azula continued. “Now that the gang’s all back together, we’re going to try this one last time.” Mai glared at Azula, all pretense of hiding her anger gone. Ty Lee didn’t deserve any of what she had been put through. She had just been trying to help a friend on the gondola dock, not make any kind of principled stand. She had chosen Mai over Azula, just as Mai had chosen Zuko. 

“For the record, I don’t believe for a second Zuko didn’t tell you where he was going. So you’re going to tell me where he is, or cartwheels-for-brains here is going to die. Slowly.” Azula thinned her flame into a blade, which she held by Ty Lee’s temple. The fire wasn’t making contact, but already Ty Lee was grimacing, trying to keep from screaming. The heat alone would be excruciating, Mai guessed.

Mai had given up on her own freedom, her own life under the current regime. But she couldn’t make that choice for Ty Lee. If only Azula hadn’t gotten this stupid notion in her head that Mai, Zuko, Ty Lee, hell, maybe even her mother were all in kahoots against her, this situation wouldn’t have been so difficult. At this point, Mai would’ve drastically preferred that Azula would’ve just come into her cell and tortured the sanity out of her. But the princess always did like to play with her food.  
Mai thought back to all the books she read on the world outside the Fire Nation. Where would Zuko and the Avatar be holed up? Not the Earth Kingdom, almost the entire continent, including Ba Sing Se, was occupied by the Fire Nation army. The Northern Water Tribe was an inconvenient place from which to stage another invasion attempt. The South pole was a wasteland with a couple of huts.

Of course, Mai thought. There’s only one option. She remembered, actually, getting caught learning about this place. Her father had taken the book from her and put it on the tallest part of a shelf, not even where the rest of the tomes of its kind belonged. “Mai,” he had said. “You’re too young to read this. I don’t want you getting any weird ideas from those mountain people.” Then he had poked her in the stomach and she had laughed, at him, herself, those weird mountain people with their silly arrow heads. But her father had come too late. She’d learned all about one of their temples, the one closest to the Fire Nation. 

“The Western Air Temple,” Mai gasped. “There’s no way he’s anywhere but there. It’s secure and the Avatar would’ve known where to find it.”

Azula smiled thinly. “Your nation thanks you. And you and Zuko? I knew it wasn’t love.” She kicked Ty Lee down to the floor again and walked out the door. When it slammed shut behind her, Ty Lee scrambled over to Mai and threw her chained arms around her. The metal actually felt refreshing against the back of Mai’s neck. 

“You reek,” Mai said.

“You’re no fire lily yourself,” Ty Lee replied. 

Mai laughed, leaning into the embrace while imagining throwing daggers into Azula’s back as she walked out of their cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave kudos and/or review. I started wondering how Azula just kind of showed up at the Western Air Temple at the beginning of "The Southern Raiders", and I wanted to write from Mai's perspective after "The Boiling Rock", and thus, this chapter was born. Hope you liked it!


	3. After "Tales of Ba Sing Se"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko looks inward after Jin reappears in the tea shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It was nice" wasn't really the end of Zuko's experience with Jin, was it?

Three days after The Tale of Zuko (“Tales of Ba Sing Se”)

A tap on the shoulder jolted Zuko out of the monotonous stupor of scrubbing out teacups. He quickly rinsed out the remaining bubbles in the cup he was holding and made for the door out into the dining room. 

“Wait, Prince Zuko!” Iroh whispered loudly.

Zuko turned back impatiently. “First off, it’s Lee. We’re not in the apartment,” Iroh nodded soberly. “I’m going back out there. We’re busy. That’s what you were going to tell me, right?”

A grin slid its way onto Iroh’s wrinkled face. “It isn’t the number of customers that should concern you.”

The banished prince rolled his eyes. “Uncle, we don’t have time for games. The people want their tea. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Your favorite customer has returned at last, Lee,” Iroh said. Zuko froze. He thought he’d never see her back in the tea shop again. He didn’t know much about first dates, but he was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to bolt after the girl kisses you. 

“She’s not my favorite customer!” Zuko snapped.

“She? I was referring to Mr. Huang.” Iroh winked. “Was there someone else you were hoping would show her pretty face?” Zuko ignored the teasing and pushed his way out into the dining hall, scanning the crusty tables. Sure enough, Mr. Huang (whoever that was, Zuko didn’t make a habit of getting to know the clientele) was nowhere in sight. All the way in the back left corner, however, sat a teenage girl with dark hair pulled back into a thick, messy ponytail. Iroh nudged Zuko’s elbow. 

“How strange, I just saw Mr. Huang here a second ago!” Iroh exclaimed in mock-surprise. “Maybe he left because the wait staff was moving slowly. You should probably resume your duties. Maybe start with a friendly face? That ought to improve your temperament.” The old man slinked away to the nearest table, chuckling as he took their orders. Sighing, Zuko walked over to Jin, looking like a man heading to his execution. As he approached, she smiled, but it wasn’t her usual doe eyed grin. This was the smile of someone who knew something she wasn’t supposed to. Fear spread through Zuko like fire through a forest. The Fire Prince fears nothing, he reminded himself. Especially not some teenage girl from the Lower Ring. The thing was, he wasn’t the Fire Prince. He couldn’t be the Fire Prince here. In order to survive, he had to be Lee the tea server, one of the huddled masses of Earth Kingdom refugees hoping to scrape out a “life” in the so-called greatest city in the world. 

“What can I get for you?” Zuko asked, surprised at how calm his voice came out. 

“A cup of Jasmine,” Jin replied, her voice silky. “And maybe a talk?”

Zuko ran through his choices. Did she really know something about their real identities? If so, he had no choice but to talk to her. If she hadn’t gone to the authorities already, maybe he could convince her not to say anything. No, he told himself. She wants to talk about the other night. She’s just an emotionally confused girl. She won’t be the death of you. Either way, he didn’t see a way he could dodge her request. “Let’s start with the talk,” Zuko said through grated teeth. “Come on.”

She stood up, and he started to charge his way towards the back room, but stopped when she took his hand. Zuko glared at her, then quickly tried to rearrange his face into something more presentable. Jin just laughed. “Nobody will follow us if we make it seem like we’re...going for some alone time.”

Zuko looked down at their intertwined hands, suddenly bombarded with memories of being dragged to the Fire Fountain (then the disappointment in her big brown eyes when the candles weren’t lit, then the feeling of her warm, slightly chapped lips on his). “Right,” was all Zuko was able to muster in reply. As they strolled towards the kitchen, Iroh caught Zuko’s eye. The prince forced himself to smile. Iroh smiled in return, shaking his head slightly. 

Jin didn’t waste time. As soon as they were through the door, she let go of his hand and smiled that non-smile at him. Zuko couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but he missed the her awkward fawning. “So,” she said. “I assume you’re not trying to hide the fact that you’re a firebender.”

“I’m not a firebender,” Zuko started, flatly, as if his own mind had concluded against his will that lying wasn’t even going to be worth the effort. 

“Yeah, you are. The candles didn’t light themselves.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Zuko mumbled. “I’m...a juggler.”

Jin guffawed. “Come on, Lee. If your ‘circus’ let you juggle, it must have been the worst circus in the whole Fire Nation.” Zuko couldn’t summon any more lies, so Jin continued. “You lit the candles, had me close my eyes so I wouldn’t see you firebending, but nobody else was near the fountain.” She stepped closer, and actually took his hand again. Now Zuko really didn’t know what to say. “It was...sweet. But you probably already knew I thought that.” Jin was blushing, and Zuko replayed their kiss once again.

She reached up to touch the unscarred side of his face. Her hand, he hated to admit to himself, felt amazing on his cheek. Warm and soft. Nobody, not even his uncle, had touched him like that since his mother left. 

The Agni Kai didn’t count. 

“Lee, it’s okay. Something tells me even though you’re a firebender, your history with the Fire Nation is no better than anyone from the Earth Kingdom.” She started to move her right hand to the scarred side of his face, but he stopped her, closing her hand in his before it made contact with the dry, angry skin. 

“Sorry,” Jin said softly. “You don’t want people to touch it?” Zuko shook his head, but was glad when she kept her left hand on his unscarred side. “Can I ask how you got it?” 

Zuko considered. Whenever others had asked about it, crewmen aboard his ship or others within the Fire Nation, Iroh had always stepped in, told them it had been a carelessly self-inflicted training accident. Self-inflicted. In a way, the lie was the truth. Zuko had brought his father’s wrath down upon himself in that war room. His dishonor was his own fault. But Jin had to believe he had some atrocity committed against him. 

“An army commander came to my family’s house trying to conscript the men in my family,” Zuko said. “When we refused, he took my father and brothers captive. My uncle and I got away...but he gave me this scar as a parting gift.” The backstory wasn’t off the cuff. He’d heard one of his father’s commanders telling a similar story once. Except he hadn’t only burned the son’s face. 

Jin slid her thumb across his cheek. Zuko stiffened. She’d bought the story, but this was getting to be a new kind of uncomfortable. Had she forgotten that their date had been pretty terrible? Luckily, Jin noticed his discomfort and removed her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m glad you got out. The Fire Nation is no place for someone like you.”

“What does that mean?” Zuko asked. 

“Someone who just wants to serve tea and go out to a nice dinner afterwards, maybe throw some of the dishes around while he’s at it.” Jin teased, her old genuine smile back in all its glory. Zuko was glad to see it, but her words bothered him.

“That’s not all I want,” Zuko muttered. “I…” He caught himself. She may not be automatically hostile towards firebenders, but it still wasn’t a good idea to be vulnerable with her. Not that he was the oversharing type normally. 

But was it so wrong that he kind of wanted to? 

“The Fire Nation may have given me this scar, but I still had a life there,” Zuko said, trying to infuse his voice with some semblance of pride. “It’s my home. I was going to be...I was more than a tea server.”

“I know, I know, you juggled,” Jin laughed. 

Zuko cracked a smile. “Yeah. I juggled.”

“I know the Lower Ring doesn’t exactly present itself as a beacon of opportunity,” Jin said. “But personally, serving tea in peace sounds a lot better than juggling in the middle of a war. Doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko said. It was true. All he’d ever known was war. War made him strong. War made him great. War gave him honor. At least, that’s what he’d been told. 

“Well, while you figure it out, do you want to go out again sometime?” Jin asked, cautiously. “Maybe this time we can get to know each other for real. No juggling. No closing my eyes.”

Zuko blanched. When he had considered all the ways this conversation might end, this was not one of them. Surely it was a bad idea. He’d be putting himself in a situation where he would be compelled to give someone information that might hint about who he was. But a voice in his head that sounded a lot like his uncle’s asked a different question, one he’d never dared ask himself before. What do you want? 

Well, he thought. I kind of want to interact with this girl without worrying about my past. And I kind of, definitely, want to kiss her again. 

Then he remembered his mother’s last words to him. “Never forget who you are.” He was the Fire Prince. Son of Ozai, blood of the dragons, heir to the throne of the greatest nation in the world. He had strung those words through his mind time and time again when over the past few years whenever he had felt hopeless, lost on a fruitless quest to restore his honor. “Never forget who you are.”

But now he wondered whether his mother had really meant for her parting words to simply elicit a list of titles and ranks, or whether she wanted something more for him. Would working in a tea shop in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se qualify as “more”?

Uncle’s voice spoke again in his mind. What do you want?

“Yeah, Jin,” Zuko said. “I’d like to go out again.”

Jin slid her arms around him before he could object, but once he registered the feeling of her form against him, he realized he would’ve been stupid to object anyway. She let him go after a second or two. “I still want that Jasmine,” she called as she walked out the door back into the dining room. Zuko set to work making her tea, and within five seconds Iroh had sidled up to his side. 

“Uncle, were you waiting outside the whole time?” Zuko asked, exasperated. Honestly, he was more annoyed at the invasion of privacy than at the prospect of having been caught divulging their Fire Nation background. 

“No, no, I promise I wasn’t. I gave you two your due privacy.” Iroh elbowed Zuko gently.

Zuko flushed, averting his eyes back to Jin’s tea. “We were just talking, Uncle! But, actually, I think we’re going to go out again...is that okay?” the prince asked timidly. 

“Of course, Lee!” Iroh exclaimed. “I remember when I first took your aunt out, we went to the nicest restaurant in the whole capitol. Of course, we were kindly asked to leave a few minutes into our main course. I still wonder why. Maybe it was because we could barely keep our--” 

“Okay, Uncle, thank you!” Zuko gasped. He had been on the receiving end of one of Iroh’s overshares a few times before, and he was not eager to hear about all the intimate details of his uncle’s courtship...again. 

“Say hello to her for me.” Iroh laughed his belly laugh as he set about preparing another order. 

“Sure,” Zuko muttered, Iroh having succeeded in restoring his comfortable surliness, at least on the outside. But inside, Zuko remained in a significantly better mood than he was before Jin had arrived.

“Uncle,” Zuko called. 

“Yes, Lee?”

“Actually, I think you can call me Zuko when we’re back here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave kudos and/or review!  
> I support Maiko, but I would've loved to see more of how Jin affected Zuko while he was still in Ba Sing Se. He got a taste of what life could be like as an Earth Kingdom everyman, and "it was nice"!


	4. During "The Southern Raiders"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Katara and Zuko leave to hunt down his mother's killer, Sokka deals with his own grief with help from Toph, Suki, and Aang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Southern Raiders" is my favorite episode in the whole series. Absolute masterpiece from start to finish. Here's what might have happened to Kya's other child during that episode.

During "The Southern Raiders"

Sokka threw the firewood down, letting his arms swing loose as the logs flew to land near Toph's feet. The wood crashed loudly onto rock, startling the blind earthbending master. "Snoozles, we have two firebenders with us now!"

Toph was her usual vision of laziness, fully horizontal in the scorching Fire Nation Sun. Clearly, she was taking advantage of Katara's...distracted mood. Usually, the waterbender went into full mother mode whenever the paler-skinned people in the group ended the day with the complexions of crab-lobsters. But, if Sokka had to guess, Katara's thoughts would not be on the potential sunburns of twelve-year-olds when she returned from her and Zuko's expedition. "What are they going to light, Toph? The dirt?" Sokka asked indignantly.

Toph shrugged. Sokka angered even further. Did he just feel his eye twitch? "The answer is no! You can't set dirt on fire!" he shouted, despite knowing this would only make Toph even less intimidated by him and thus less willing to do any work whatsoever. Still, he pressed on, because he was a soldier if nothing else. "So if you'd please help me out a little, we could get this done a lot faster!"

Toph sat up quickly, glaring at him in return. "Quit your yapping! Do you just want me to throw a boulder at you or something?"

Sokka stomped his foot. "No, I want you to go and pick up some wood!"

Toph stomped her foot too, sending a fissure carving its way towards Sokka. Out of the crack sprang a rock, which pushed Sokka's left foot off the ground and send the warrior tumbling onto his back. Now Toph stood up to loom over the defeated Sokka. "You've got enough wood! You wanna tell me what's really bothering you or am I just gonna have to feel your heart pounding a thousand times a minute all day?"

"Nothing's bothering me," Sokka grumbled. "Fine, I'll go get more wood myself. Enjoy your snooze."

Toph laid back down. "I will. If you see Twinkletoes, will you tell him to get his lily-livered butt back in gear? I sent him down to the cliffs to do some earthbending practice, but I can see him...currently playing with the koala-sheep."

Sokka harumphed and walked away, leaving Toph's request unanswered. But as he passed by Suki's tent, a hand jumped out and yanked him inside. "Suki, I'm not really in the mood right now, but keep the energy up for later-"

"No, not that," she whispered, blushing furiously. "I heard you yelling at Toph."

"I know, I know, never a good idea to yell at the earthbender," Sokka moaned. "You keep telling me, and I keep forgetting. She's just so...yell-able."

"Okay, yeah," Suki rolled her eyes. "But I wasn't concerned with you getting a rock to the head."

"Thanks," Sokka said dryly.

"Sokka, you know what I mean!"

"I'm fine. I just need to take a walk. A long one." Sokka left her tent abruptly, but she appeared at his side again, smiling sadly at him. Aang was nowhere in sight. Toph was probably deep into a nap by now, and even if she was awake she wouldn't come to his rescue. Nothing seemed to please her more than any situation in which Sokka was uncomfortable. Which, according to his expert strategic analysis, left him with nowhere to run.

"You know I want to be here for you, but sometimes you don't let me," Suki begged. It was true. He had only told her the whole truth about Yue a few days ago. How he couldn't protect her, why he was so hesitant to start a new relationship when it felt like the moon was constantly watching him, hanging over him every night as a reminder of his failure.

Sokka wasn't going to get out of this one. He wasn't even sure he wanted to. He pulled his girlfriend in for a hug and led her over to center of their camp, where Toph, with perfect timing, had decided to sit up. Sometimes he wondered if there was any way to really hide anything from Toph, but for all the little tyrant's flaws, he did view her as a second sister, and knew that she could be counted on to keep a secret when it mattered.

They sat down, Sokka and Suki with their shoulders touching. Toph leered at them, her line of sight disturbingly accurate as it always was. "He yell at you too?" Toph quipped.

"No, and he's very sorry that he took that tone with you," Suki replied. She kissed Sokka's cheek. "Isn't he?"

"Yeurgh," Toph groaned. "Apology accepted. Now what's the big stink?"

Sokka looked down, deciding his shoes would be a safe place to pin his gaze to for the duration of this conversation. "It's what Katara said yesterday. That I didn't love our mother like she did."

Toph scoffed. "Come on, Sugar Queen wasn't thinking straight. You can't think she meant that, can you?"

"No, I don't think she really meant it. She was mad, I'm sure she'll come to me with some tearful apology when they get back. It's kind of her thing." Sokka said. "But does it matter? Part of me wonders if she's right. If I really loved my mother, loved her the same way Katara did, shouldn't I have gone with her and Zuko?"

"Sokka," Suki said gently. "Your choice to stay didn't have anything to do with how much you love your mother. Everyone goes through things differently. Katara wanted revenge, you didn't."

"But then am I saying that man doesn't deserve to die for all the horrible things he's done?" Sokka asked. "Our mom was just one woman, he's probably killed or kidnapped so many more. It might not be logical, but I just feel... like a coward."

Toph groaned from across the campsite. "Sokka. You're not a coward. You regularly take stupid fights with Fire Nation soldiers without bending. And you take really stupid fights with me, the greatest earthbender in the-"

"Is this a joke to you, Toph?" Suki interjected.

Toph blew her hair out of her face. Katara had offered to cut the overgrown bangs, but Toph had just rolled her eyes and laughed. "I just don't get it. And you know me, I love beating people up. But it's pretty stupid to get all down over something she didn't mean. If she didn't mean it, you can't take it seriously, and if she did mean it, well it was a stupid thing to say anyways! So snap out of it!"

Suki fixed Toph with a withering glare, momentarily forgetting it would have no effect. "How could you say something like that?" Suki yelled.

"It's the truth!" Toph shouted back, far be it for her to back down from any confrontation. "Snoozles, it was dumb of them to show their faces anywhere off this beach anyways, and combine that with all of Twinkletoes' airbender mumbo jumbo, you were smart not to go with them. So I think you need to go whack something with your space sword and come back when you're ready to not be such a downer!"

Sokka was effectively silenced. Suki put a hand on his back. "Come on, let's go down to the beach and talk, just the two of us," she coaxed, with another useless glare in Toph's direction. Sokka finally looked up, staring down the earthbender with eyes that suddenly seemed a very icy blue.

"No, I'm going to go by myself. I'm sorry, Suki." He stood up, considering what to say to the earthbender that might actually crack her uncaring exterior. "And I'm sorry for you too, Toph. Sorry you had a mother who was so horrible that you have no idea how much it would hurt to lose one."

Sokka brushed Suki's hand off and shuffled down the hillside to the beach. Katara's words still thunderous in his head, now joined by Toph's attack. He and Toph had just talked not too long ago about their mothers. How could she have said something so horrible after being so vulnerable with him? He remembered telling Toph that he had trouble picturing his mother's face, that he was only able to see Katara's. Sokka shut his eyes, screwing his eyelids tight together in concentration, trying to picture the woman who had sacrificed herself for him, his sister, and their whole tribe. Even on a day in which her presence seemed to permeate the very air sweeping past his ears, he couldn't see her. Katara's face appeared in his mind, yet again. Only this time it wasn't her smiling, eyes wide with wonderment as she learned a new waterbending trick or scowling as he told her he had ripped his pants again. The Katara he saw today was full of pain, eyes red-rimmed and narrow with anger and bloodlust.

Coward, the ghostly Katara spat.

Sokka opened his eyes and trudged the rest of the way down the hillside. Immediately, he spotted Aang, crouched down by the tidepools that were carved into a low slab of rock jutting into the calm, azure sea. "Hey, Aang," Sokka said, trying and failing to sound happy and casual. The usual Sokka. The Sokka that the young Avatar had begged to simply "say something funny" when he'd returned from Master Piandao's castle.

"Hey, Sokka! Check out this sea anemone!" Aang chirped. Sokka crouched down next to the boy. Aang stuck his finger near a frightening-looking creature that looked a little like the center of a flower, but larger and spikier.

Aang's finger made contact with the center of the anemone, and the thing closed itself around its uninvited guest. "Amazing, right?" Aang asked excitedly.

"Guess so," Sokka said flatly. "Kind of looks like it hurts."

"No, no, it's just feels really funny. Look!" Aang pulled his finger free and repeated the motion with a different anemone. Then again, and again. Sokka stopped looking, staring out onto the horizon. Quickly, he tried to imagine his mother's face. Maybe being so close to the ocean would spark his memory? He remembered going to a cliff's edge back home, where the ice shelf met the cold sea, accompanied by a tall woman who kept him from leaping into the depths (because it looked fun). It was working! He felt like he was there, holding onto the woman's hand. Surely, this was his mother! Gran-Gran wouldn't have permitted him to even think about such foolishness as swimming in the pole waters. All he had to do was look up, and he would remember his mother's face. His eyes swept up her furs and then...he saw Katara's face. Again.

"You're not even looking!" Aang whined.

"Sorry, Aang," Sokka said. "I'm a little distracted."

Aang immediately detached himself from his latest friend and sat cross-legged next to his old one. "Katara didn't mean it, you know," he said seriously.

"How did you…" Sokka was bewildered. "Is this some new Avatar spirity thing? Because I don't know if I can handle any more spirity things."

"No, it's just a friend thing," Aang laughed. "You know I don't like revenge. It's-"

"A two-headed rat-viper, I know," Sokka finished.

"But when I found out what the Fire Nation had done to my people, well, I don't know what I would've done if there had been a firebender at the temple with us that day. I might have taken revenge. I understand what Katara is going through."

"But why am I not going through it too? Shouldn't I be just as mad as her? I'm sorry, Aang, but revenge is kind of common for non-airbender types. I guess it helps give us some sort of justice."

Aang shook his head. "No, it doesn't. It just lets all the hate you carry inside you escape into the world, and when the moment is over with, you realize the grief is still there."

Sokka looked at Aang, realizing how strangely natural it felt to be seeking wisdom from this boy, three years his junior. "So why didn't you stop her, then?"

"Because this was a journey she had to take. I believe in what the monks taught me, but being the Avatar has taught me that balance doesn't just come from Air Nomad philosophy. We're four separate nations, but everyone's got a little bit of every element inside of them. That's balance, I think. I'm...still kind of figuring it out myself."

"So what was this, Katara's firebender moment?" Sokka scoffed.

Aang laughed again. "No, not necessarily. I guess we'll see. Me? I don't think she'll be able to kill him. She'll realize that forgiveness feels way more powerful than revenge."

"Forgiveness...is a power?"

"The power to release yourself from pain," Aang said grandiosely. "That's what the monks taught me."

"Murder won't bring our mom back. I don't know if she'll be able to forgive him, but I hope she doesn't kill him," Sokka confessed.

"Me too," Aang said.

They fell into silence, listening to the waves crash softly against the rock they were sitting on. Sokka put on a brave face and prodded a sea anemone with his finger. "Aah!" he shrieked. Aang burst into guffaws. "Get this thing off of me!" Sokka yelled.

"Just pull!" Aang choked out.

Sokka did, and found removing his finger was much easier than anticipated. Still, that wasn't an experience he'd be keen on having again. "Thanks for the talk, Aang. It...actually helped."

"Hey, don't sound so surprised." Aang looked off to Sokka's right, then stood up. "I'll leave you two alone." Sokka turned, expecting to see a worried Suki. Instead, Toph stood ten feet away, shoulders slumped and head down. As soon as Aang passed her, she ran over and sat down next to Sokka, but kept a strange distance between them.

"I'm sorry," she said simply.

"Me too," Sokka said.

"If you wanna punch me, I won't stop you," Toph mumbled.

"Did Suki tell you to say that?"

"She couldn't tell me what to do if she tried. I'm serious, if you wanna punch me, do it, Snoozles!"

Sokka started chuckling, then threw an arm around the little earthbender's shoulders. Toph started laughing her bubbly laugh too. He never took her up her offer. They sat there for an hour, settling into their usual routine of lobbing childish insults at each other and venting about the rest of the group while the sounds and smells of the ocean swirled around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave kudos and/or review!  
> I wanted to know a little more about Sokka and Kya's relationship. I get that he had a special bond with Hakoda and Katara was closer with Kya, but when Sokka says "she was my mother too" in the episode, I wondered what he was really feeling. Why he didn't go with her and Zuko, what he went through mentally with all this grief dug up again...sorry for those who wanted Sokka's first appearance in this fic to be a little fluffier. I promise some fluff is coming.


	5. After "The Headband"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara wrestles with a new outlook on the Avatar after their fateful dance in "The Headband".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the very first ideas I had for this series. Katara certainly seems to have been affected by the dance in the episode, so I thought I'd take a dive into her mind as best as I could. I put Kataang in the tags, and I intend to deliver.

Three hours after "The Headband"

"What does Aang look like?"

Katara blinked rapidly, freeing the haze from her heavy eyes. She finally felt like she had been making some progress on falling asleep on the cave floor when Toph's high, inquisitive voice cut through her trance. The group almost always fell asleep in the same order. Sokka first, which seemed only right because of his Toph-given nickname. Then Aang, usually after a quick nighttime meditation. The airbender was free-spirited about everything except his cultural practices, which he followed to the letter. But if airbender mindfulness and traditions helped him with a healthy sleep schedule, Katara thought she might find the nearest tattoo artist and get herself some arrows. The waterbender was usually third. Toph liked to say that it was because her motherly side wanted to make sure her brother and...the Avatar (Yup, Katara thought, rolling her eyes at herself internally, the Avatar is all he is to me) went safely into their sweet dreams. And, of course, the greatest earthbender in the world had was not constrained by such concepts as bedtime.

Katara pushed herself to a seated position and faced Toph from across the red embers of their once-homely campfire. "What does Aang look like?" she repeated, a bit grumpy from having her valiant attempt at sleep thwarted. "Are you gonna chuck a rock at me if I ask why you wanna know?"

"No," Toph shrugged. "You're lucky I'm tired. I guess I'm just curious."

Katara ran a hand through the ends of her long hair, now frizzy from days in the Fire Nation heat. "I guess I don't really know how to describe him to you."

Toph smiled, too gently for Katara's comfort. "Just do your best."

Katara narrowed her eyes. The girl was up to something, and Katara had no choice but to play along, for now. "He's a little shorter than me, but he used to be even shorter. Soon, he'll probably be my height." Are you guessing, or hoping? a devilish voice inside Katara's head asked. "He's got grayish-brown eyes, but...I guess that doesn't help you...sorry."

Toph laughed, again sounding way too not-mean-spirited. "It's cool. Keep going."

"He has hair now," Katara continued. "He's been bald his whole life, so he was really confused when he woke up after Ba Sing Se and I told him I liked his hair." Katara chuckled, remembering the way Aang's hands zipped to his head faster than a tiger-seal in heat. "It's kind of jarring for me too, honestly. But in a good way. Makes him look, well, I don't want to say normal, but…"

"Normal," Toph said decisively. Katara laughed.

"Yeah. Normal."

Toph leaned forward, putting her palms on her knees. "So what about one very normal looking Aang had your heart beating so fast when you two danced earlier?"

"Toph!" Katara whisper-shouted, doing her best to convey righteous indignation while not waking her snoring brother. "My heart wasn't beating faster. What do you think this, Love Amongst the Dragons?" Suddenly, a disturbing image popped into Katara's head-a poster for the saccharine Fire Nation play, two dragons intertwined in the shape of a heart, with her and Aang's faces replacing the dragon heads.

"Interesting you mention Love Amongst the Dragons, Sugar Queen," Toph cackled.

"Only to say that this," Katara gestured wildly at herself and Aang, who was so fast asleep he appeared comatose. "Isn't that."

"You really wanna tell me my feet saw wrong?"

"Yeah," Katara huffed. "They did."

"You know, I am actually a girl too," Toph reminded her.

"Oh, really? I seem to remember being relieved to finally have another girl in the group, only to turn around and see half of Appa's fur coming out of your sleeves!"

"Well, I'm not ladylike," Toph said. "I'd never think about Twinkletoes in that way, but I'm actually not trying to push your buttons here." For once, Katara thought. "And if you think you're heart was going fast-"

"Which it wasn't," Katara insisted.

Toph held up a hand in a 'pipe down' gesture. "You should've seen Aang's."

"Yeah...that part I figured," Katara mumbled.

Toph's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates and her mouth split open into a raucous grin. "You what, Sugar Queen? So you're saying you like him, you know he likes you, and you're just gonna sit on this information?"

Katara rolled her eyes so fiercely she thought she might catch a glimpse of her skull. "I'm going to bed," she muttered. "You should too, Sokka says we're moving again bright and early tomorrow morning."

"I'll sleep in the saddle. I don't exactly get mesmerized by the view," Toph chuckled. "Good night, Fancy Dancer." Katara cringed. This had once been Aang's second nickname. She resigned herself to sharing the label now. She couldn't deny that their dance a couple hours ago had indeed been...fancy.

Fancy. Yeah. That was the word she'd use. Certainly not exciting or intriguing. Or romantic, the annoying voice inside her offered helpfully. Now that she was alone with her thoughts, it was harder to lie to herself. She recalled the scent of sweat on both of them, the sound and feel of their breath so close to each other's faces. Aang always smelled so neutrally fresh, so she (weirdly, she knew) actually liked it when a little sweat or a lot of Appa fur got into his scent. After he dipped her at the end of the dance, they'd locked eyes for several seconds, neither one willing to break their gaze first. His gray eyes looked warmer, almost brownish by the bright firelights they had set up all around the cave.

"Don't worry about them," Aang had said. "It's just you and me right now." When had he gone from "I'd rather kiss you than die" to that? And she had rewarded him for a fun night with a kiss on the cheek. Nothing she hadn't done before. But still, it had felt different this time. She hadn't done it as some sort of thank-you, or as a goodbye. It had just felt right.

And, of course, there was the cave outside Omashu. Any time she dared open her mind with regards to Aang, that memory made its presence known. All she had then was the feel of his lips on hers, soft and cool. Their light had died before their lips had met. Would she have closed her eyes if it hadn't been dark anyway? Were his lips still cool? It had been refreshing in the stuffy cave, but now that she thought about it, she would much rather kiss something warm. Katara supposed she could go and see for herself, in the name of a personal science experiment.

Ugh, she thought. This is useless. She rolled over on the dirt floor, ordering her body to fall asleep. It complied.

"Who wants to wake her?" Katara heard Aang whisper.

"Step aside," Toph grumbled, she herself clearly still groggy, but in the mood to just get going if they really had to leave at this hour.

"Toph!" Sokka's voice-cracky morning croak echoed through the cave. "Not that I don't respect it otherwise, but when you wake people up, it tends to involve an unnecessary amount of destruction."

"If you were a bender, you'd realize there's no better way to get the job done," Toph huffed.

Katara was now fully awake but determined to keep her eyes shut on the off chance her brother-turned-drill-sergeant decided the best course of action would be to let her sleep a little while longer while they packed up Appa. However, if she heard Sokka or Toph stepping any closer to her, she'd make sure to sit up before they could inflict any further annoyance (in Sokka's case) or physical pain (in Toph's) upon her.

"Okay, okay," Aang said placatingly. "I will accept my Avatar duty as the bridge between awake Katara and asleep Katara. There's a way to do this that maintains balance and peace."

"Balance and peace," Sokka scoffed.

"No fun," Toph whined.

Aang's footsteps brushed the ground. His gait was so naturally quiet it would be imperceptible to those not used to hearing it-another thing Katara suddenly hated that she noticed. Still, she smiled furtively, her face invisible to the others as she anticipated Aang's gentle touch on her shoulders.

Five seconds later, she was still anticipating. He had stopped moving, that much was certain. So why hadn't he-

"RISE AND SHINE, SIFU!" Aang shouted at the top of his lungs. Katara vaulted to her feet, eyes scanning the cave ferociously for any sign of the young Avatar so she could freeze him to the wall. She saw Sokka and Toph, just standing there, smiling gleefully. Sokka slowly pointed a finger up towards the ceiling of the cave. Katara snapped her head upwards, expecting to see Aang perched on an air scooter twenty feet in the air, but the ceiling was noticeably moron-free.

Then, she heard a crunch behind her and felt a cool finger tap her twice on her shoulder. She turned around slowly, still wanting to douse him with an excessive quantity of ice-cold water. He smiled gently at her, ignoring the furious expression on her freshly-awake face. "Hi," he said. "Awake?"

The lightness in his voice cleared the cobwebs from her groggy brain, and she found herself immediately, yet somewhat unwillingly, forgiving him for his cruel and unusual wake-up strategy.

"Yes, Aang," she mumbled, pulling him in for a begrudging (or, really, not that begrudging) morning hug. "I'm awake. Thank you for the very peaceful greeting." Sokka and Toph were snickering unabashedly behind them. She let Aang go after a time interval just long enough to make her feel awkward. But the Avatar was, of course, unruffled.

"Come on," he said. "Appa's ready to fly!" The sky bison, standing just outside the cave entrance, roared in that oddly conversational way he always roared.

"Yes, Katara, let's go, we're already seven minutes behind schedule!" Sokka yelled. Katara made her way over to Appa, "accidentally" bumping Sokka's shoulder as she walked past him. She hopped up onto the saddle, at her usual position closest to Appa's head. By this point in her time with Aang, it was second nature to sit close enough so she could talk with him for the whole journey to wherever they were going. But today it felt different. There would be still several feet of shaggy, ten-ton, five-stomach beast between them, but when Aang hopped up onto his best friend's head, she somehow felt much closer to him.

The Avatar looked back, that signature ready-for-adventure sparkle that Katara had come to love shining in his big eyes. "Everyone ready!"

"Of course," Katara said, smiling down at him.

"Yip yip!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be on vacation for the next several days, so new chapters will be posted every other day until I get back home. Fear not, though, as the next chapter will be a doozy. I intentionally gave y'all some fluff for #5 because #6 is gonna hit hard.


	6. After "The Northern Air Temple"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving the Northern Air Temple, Katara reckons with a past mistake.

After "The Northern Air Temple"

Katara chose to chalk up Aang’s silence to the lack of scenery. The Avatar was usually keen to point out anything he considered remotely interesting, from a new kind of bird to a strange-looking rock formation. It came as an endearing side effect of his natural curiosity and inexplicable worldliness. But, as they’d been flying over the North Ocean for nearly a day straight, the sights were sparse--just the cold, churning sea beneath them and the achingly bright blue sky around them.

Yeah, Katara thought. It’s a boring trip. That’s why he’s not talking to me. 

Katara peeled her eyes from the back of Aang’s head and crawled carefully to the back of the saddle, where her brother was inelegantly sprawled out, using his rolled-up sleeping bag as a pillow to try and sleep away the rest of this monotonous flight. “Sokka,” Katara shook his shoulder, as roughly as she dared. “Sokka!” 

“Mmmghhh!!” he groaned. 

Katara didn’t waste any time. “Do you think Aang is mad at us?” 

Sokka pulled his hood up tightly over his ears. “I’m too tired for this.” He rolled over, as if physically turning his back on her would solve all her problems (if he was even interested in her problems). 

“Sokka, I’m serious!” Katara whispered, gently pulling his hood off. “He’s barely said a word since we took off today.”

“He’s probably concentrating on flying,” Sokka grumbled. “Trying not to fall sleep.” The warrior chuckled. “Hah! Trying not to sleep.”

“Is that really your theory?” Katara crossed her arms, an old standby of a gesture for her, from back in their bleak Southern Water Tribe days. She had to admit she and Sokka’s relationship had been better since they’d began their journey with Aang. Still, she wasn’t above using sisterly intimidation now and again. 

“If you wanna call it a theory, sure.” Sokka resigned himself to wakefulness and clambered to a sitting position, reclined against the leather wall of the saddle. “But my real theory is that you’re crazy and Aang’s fine.” Sokka dug through his bag and retrieved his boomerang and whetstone. 

“He’s not fine, Sokka,” Katara said, as her brother began lovingly sharpening his boomerang. “I’ll talk to him myself, if you really just want to sit here and be unhelpful.”

“Sounds good,” Sokka said blithely, eyes locked on his weapon. “You’re better at the emotional stuff anyway.”

Katara raised one eyebrow as far as it could humanly go. “Why? Because I’m a girl?”

“No.” Sokka looked up from his task and winked at her. “Because you’re a fragile panda-lily.” Katara punched him in the arm, hard, and crawled back to the front of the saddle. Aang hadn’t heard a word of what they’d said, she was sure. The wind was too strong at this speed, and normally Aang had a smile on his face from the sound and feel of the wind in his ears. But today, he wore Katara’s least favorite of his expressions--neutrality. 

“Aang!” she shouted over the roaring Northern wind. “Can I sit up there with you?”

“Sure,” he said flatly. But he scooted over, well-mannered as always, giving her a generous amount of space on Appa’s head. The bison’s fur was thick and warm, and Katara, outside the potentially difficult conversation she would be undertaking shortly, took a moment to relish the luxurious feeling (or, at least, what passed for luxurious when you were living in tents and foraging for food). 

“It feels like something’s on your mind,” she started. “You’ve been kind of quiet.”

Aang patted Appa’s head and let go of the reins. “I think you get the drill, buddy. Straight ahead,” he said, trying and failing to muster his usual Appa-friendly tone. The bison grumbled in an equally unenthusiastic response. Aang sighed, eyes fixed on the dark swatch of fur that led to the arrow on Appa’s forehead. “We just left the Northern Air Temple. I guess I’m thinking about my people.”

Katara felt like a jerk. Here she was, playing therapist, trying to ascertain the oh-so-mysterious cause of why Aang wasn’t his usual bubbly self, while ignoring the fact that he had been reminded just a day ago of how far gone his culture really was. “Oh, Aang,” she put an arm around him. “Of course you are. That’s completely understandable. He didn’t lean into her as he (and any normal human) usually did when a hug was being dispensed. She let go abruptly, mildly fearful at his cold body language. 

“Katara, why didn’t you and Sokka just tell me what happened to the Air Nomads?” 

“I tried, Aang,” she reminded him. “You didn’t believe me. You said there was no way the Fire Nation could’ve attacked the temples.”

“You could’ve pushed harder!” Aang said, his voice rising ever so slightly. But even a bit of anger from a boy like him just made Katara sadder.

“I guess I was trying to protect you,” Katara whispered, knowing it was a horrible excuse. She’d known she was in the wrong even on the day they had visited the Southern Temple. Sokka had warned her too. But she hadn’t listened, and now her friend was in pain. 

Aang took a deep, meditative breath, which only made Katara feel guiltier. Falling back on airbending practices even in times of great pain was a mark of a master. Katara only wished there were other masters around to appreciate how great of an Air Nomad Aang really was. “Sokka told you why I nearly destroyed part of the temple, right?”

Katara’s eyes grew misty, remembering the stinging wind Aang had summoned, the pebbles whipping around the courtyard. Aang himself, trapped within his own powers, glowing eyes hiding any trace of the happy boy she was just starting to get to know. “Yes, he did,” she said, her voice quivering. 

“I’m not stupid, Katara. I wasn’t expecting all my old friends to pop out from behind the some wall and throw me a welcome home party,” he said wanly. “But that was the worst possible way of finding out for sure that my people were gone.” 

Katara tried to put herself in his shoes, replacing Gyatso’s skeleton with Gran-Gran’s. She pictured herself as the Avatar, hearing vague hints from her supposed friends about something horrible happening to her culture, then having her suspicions confirmed by the grisly remains of someone she considered a third parent. “I’m so sorry, Aang,” Katara cried. “I just…” She found herself at a loss for words. What could she possibly say that would make this right? “I need you to know I never wanted to hurt you.”

Aang finally looked at her. “It’s okay,” he said simply. 

Katara looked back at him through tear-blurred vision. “What?”

“It’s okay,” he said again. “If there’s one thing I learned from Gyatso, above all else, it was forgiveness.” 

Katara sniffed. “Aang, I’m glad you’re okay, but you don’t have to make yourself not be mad at me. I deserve it.”

“I’m not okay, Katara,” Aang said. “But I can’t be crippled by the past. And I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?” The waterbender asked, disbelievingly. 

“What you said when I was...out of control...got through. My people are gone, but I’m not alone,” Aang said, staring at her deeply. “You and Sokka, you really are my family.” And now he finally leaned against her. She put both arms around her friend and cried into his shoulder. 

“How can you forgive so easily?” she asked. 

“I don’t know.” He laughed a little. “It just feels better than hanging on to anger.” They ended the embrace, but she gripped his hand lightly before he could scoot further away. 

“Aang, you can always talk to me about the airbenders if you need to. We’re family, but that doesn’t mean you have to let them go completely.”

“What about Sokka?” Aang joked. “Think he’d be willing to listen too?”

“Maybe if you feed him first,” Katara quipped. Aang laughed loudly, just like normal. She chuckled too. The joke hadn’t even been that funny, but Aang’s generous spirit extended even to her humor. “But seriously,” she pressed. “I know we’ll never really understand the pain you’re going through, but we’ll be here. We’re in this together.”

“Thanks, Katara,” Aang said. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the sea undulate beneath them as they whizzed over. The occasional ice floe dotted the near-black ocean surface, and a few big, white birds decided to join them in flight. One daringly swooped in front of Appa’s head, squawking something in its native tongue that couldn’t be kind. Appa roared his most intimidating roar, which sent the birds scattering away into the wispy clouds overhead. Aand and Katara laughed. 

“Do you know what those birds were?” Katara asked. 

“Nope,” Aang chirped. His eyes had assumed their telltale mischievous glint. Katara raised an eyebrow. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked, afraid of the answer.

“Come on, you shouldn’t even have to ask by now!” Aang said cheerfully. “Take the reins.” He hopped onto the saddle and called his staff to him with a quick waft of airbending. 

Sokka had finally finished caring for Boomerang when he saw the young airbender poised for liftoff, glider unfurled and tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “I won’t even ask,” Sokka moaned. 

“See, Katara? He gets it!” Aang shouted as he jumped lackadaisically off Appa’s back and zipped up to join his new bird “friends”.

“Yeah, I don’t think I really need to steer you, do I, Appa?” Katara asked the bison. “Just keep an eye out for a falling Avatar.” Appa snorted. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Katara mumbled. She hoisted herself back onto the saddle and sat next to her brother to watch the skies for any signs of bird-related hostility. 

“We were both right,” Katara said. “He was mad. He won’t admit it because he’s an Air Nomad, and he says he forgives me, but it really hurt him when we didn’t tell him about what happened at the temples.”

An orange-and-yellow blur breezed by twenty feet above them, cackling gleefully as a couple of those white birds chased him. “I don’t know how he manages to stay so happy all the time,” Sokka said wistfully. 

“You could learn a thing or two,” Katara said, lightly elbowing her brother. 

“Hey, I’m the meat and sarcasm guy for a reason,” Sokka protested. “It’s a role in the group that has to be filled. Too much positivity all the time is just...yeurgh,” he finished eloquently. 

“Only to you, big brother,” Katara said. “Only to you.”

“How does he do it, though?” Sokka asked again. “He’s been through so much, even just since we met him.”

“I wish I knew,” Katara said softly. “But one thing’s certain.”

“What’s that?” Sokka asked.

“Someone so full of hope is the perfect Avatar for the world right now.”

Appa lowed and picked up speed, as if agreeing. The wind cycled through Katara’s hair as her eyes roamed the sky for the boundlessly hopeful boy, knowing that, no matter how much she worried, he wouldn’t fail to be back on the saddle unharmed, clothes disheveled and smiling widely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned in the Chapter 5 endnotes, I'm on vacation, so I'm still not promising everyday uploads for the next week or so, but I'll try my best to do at least every other day. I wanted to get this chapter out to you a day early as a "reward" (if I do say so myself) for all the lovely kudos and reviews. Thank y'all so much, your words and feedback mean the world to this first-time fic writer. Hope you enjoyed the chapter <3


	7. After "Day of Black Sun"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula deals with the consequences of Zuko's eclipse confrontation with Ozai.

One day after “Day of Black Sun”

Azula fought to keep her gaze forward. Involuntarily, she reassured herself, her eyes kept falling to her pointed boots, clacking all-too-loudly on the marble floor. But looking straight ahead was failing her. So she tried a new strategy. Her eyes flitted like weak little butterflies, all around the halls, roving over each portrait of a Fire Lord past. She passed Sozin--proud, aquiline features that would terrify a lesser person before they even noticed the comet cresting above his head. Azulon--calculating, intelligent, but thin even before the old age that inspired her father to usurp his brother’s birthright. And finally, Ozai himself. 

To be frank, the tapestry was a crude reflection of her father’s true brilliance. Well-built figure, gaudy flames streaming out of his hands and all around his body, an overinflated scowl--none of these were what made the Fire Lord great. It could be summed up in one word: merciless. This was the reason that, after a hundred years, the Fire Nation was finally on the brink of victory. Personally, Azula had never understood the negative connotations of the word. If a person or nation had done something to put them in a position to be begging for mercy, then it was the duty of the Fire Lord to punish them accordingly. Everyone deserved their lot in life. The Fire Nation was strong and developed, and it deserved to rule. The other nations, before Sozin, had insisted on maintaining their squalor. Those, like Avatar Roku, who had advocated for mercy, would’ve kept the Fire Nation’s riches to itself, letting the other nations languish. 

Mercy was selfishness. Mercilessness was honor. 

And yet, Azula wasn’t feeling blessed with the selflessness of the Fire Nation as she walked down the hall to her father’s training room. Ten minutes ago, a guard (she never learned their names) had shown up at her bedroom door. When she had accosted him, demanding to know why she had been interrupted (she wasn’t really doing anything, but that was none of their business), he had blankly told her that her presence was “requested” by the Fire Lord. 

She knew what that meant. Ozai only requested the presence of his children when he was angry. She’d seen it happen to Zuko dozens of times. She’d gotten her fair share of summons as well, when they were very young, but in the past three years she was proud to say she had never invoked his wrath. That changed today, she supposed. 

She quickened her pace. No use making her father even angrier than he already was by being tardy.

When she reached the door to his training room, the two guards posted at the entry crossed their spears in an X. She rolled her eyes. The spear foolishness was ceremonial, of course. She might not ever learn the guards’ names, but she knew that these two were not benders. Ozai’s personal attachés usually weren’t. Her father was the greatest firebender in the world. He really needed no protection, and there was no sense surrounding him with “threats”. 

“My father summoned me,” Azula said impatiently. Her ears perked up as a sudden, crackling sound burst from the room, then again, and again. Blue light flashed faintly, but Azula showed no fear. Or, she had no fear to show. She was the Fire Princess, and with Zuko gone, the presumptive heir to the throne (as she always should have been). Fear was simply unbecoming. 

“Enter,” Ozai purred from beyond the entryway. The guards made a show of uncrossing their spears, and Azula stared warily at each one before she crossed the threshold, uncharacteristically timid. 

Even after she entered, Ozai paid her no mind. He stood still, taking a deep breath while raising clasped hands from his stomach to in front of his forehead. Then, quick as a rat-viper, he swung his arms in a circular motion, then extended two pointed fingers forward. Lightning sprang forth, whiter and tighter than Azula’s. It surged across the room and pulverized an earthen dummy of a nameless, faceless enemy soldier (of course, Ozai and Azula saw them as faceless anyways). He repeated the exercise three times, and each time Azula was in awe of how quickly he summoned the lightning. There was a new kind of ferocity in his expression, in his movements, as he threw bolt after bolt. Azula hadn’t seen him train all that much, but she could tell he was pushing himself. Why? she thought. No one could possibly compete with him. She wished he’d teach her the simpler charging sequence, but she was sure he would in due time. Finally, he grabbed a towel from a rack by his side and addressed his visitor. 

“Thank you for coming, daughter,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. Azula played along, not so naïve as to think his friendly tone meant he wasn’t angry, but somehow holding out hope that, if she presented herself proudly and honorably here, he might spare her one of the nastier punishments. 

Although, truly, she didn’t know quite yet what she had done wrong. 

“Of course, father,” Azula replied coolly, then found herself at a loss for further words. “How can I...be of service?”

Ozai leveled his daughter with a cold stare. Azula had a fleeting memory of (in a different context, of course) similarly struggling to find words in a fancy house on Ember Island, and ending up comparing a vest to an Admiral-class warship. 

“You lied to me,” he said silkily.

Azula’s brain scrambled through courses of action. She now knew exactly why he was angry. She’d only ever lied to him once, about Zuko killing the Avatar. She could say she didn’t know what he was referring to, which would mean she’d now be lying twice, or she could be honest, which might be best for self-preservation, but would surely mean officially sanctioned dishonor. 

“About what?” she asked, as innocently as the (self-proclaimed) second-most ruthless person in the world could muster. 

“Do not make me say it, Azula!” Ozai thundered. Well, she’d made the wrong move. He abandoned all pretenses of gentleness. “You told me Zuko had killed the Avatar at Ba Sing Se. Not only did Zuko fail to make the finishing blow himself, like the traitor and coward he is, but you yourself could not kill him in his most vulnerable state!”

Azula’s survival instincts kicked in. She dropped to her knees, prostrating herself before her father and trying not to think of how Zuko had been in this exact position before being scarred. “I’m sorry, Father. I thought he was dead. I only wanted Zuko to receive a hero’s welcome.” She’d let the words tumble from her mouth freely, and somehow stumbled onto a surprisingly noble excuse.

“No, you wanted me to punish him for your failure,” Ozai rumbled. “He told me everything in the moments before he officially turned traitor.” The Fire Lord scoffed, and somehow this was infinitely more terrifying than him screaming. “He’s been a traitor since the day I tried to teach him respect.”

Azula hadn’t known the exact sequence of events that resulted in Zuko fleeing the capital city, but she’d woken up today and seen aides stuffing messenger hawks with wanted posters bearing his scarred face. She summoned her courage. “And you believe a traitor over me?” she challenged. Fire gleamed in his eyes, and she immediately feared that more would spurt from his hands. Azula bowed her head again. “I’m sorry. I am your loyal daughter. Everything I did, I did for the Fire Nation.”

Unfortunately, this didn’t wipe the fury off of Ozai’s face. “You did it for yourself! Zuko was the heir to the throne. He returned home a hero, successful in his task, which was thought to be impossible. You wanted one more failure on his ledger. You wanted to take his place.” He leaned down, filling her line of sight with his stony face. “Does this...sound correct?”

Azula dropped her eyeline as far as it would go. An onlooker who saw this tableau without Ozai in it would’ve thought she was cleaning the floor. “Yes, father,” Azula whispered.

Ozai lifted her chin with a long finger. “Truthfully, Azula, I would applaud your boldness. I have wished that you were my firstborn many times in the past. You are well-suited to be my successor, to rule over this whole world when the Fire Nation achieves its rightful victory.”

“Really?” Azula asked hopefully. 

“Still, you have lied to your Lord Father, and this is an offense punishable by permanent exile,” he said, turning his back on her.

“No! Father, please, I’ll win back your trust! I’ll do anything!” A proud corner of Azula’s mind rued the turn of events--the Fire Princess reduced to near tears, begging for forgiveness from the person least likely to give it.

“Yes, you shall,” Ozai said, as if he’d know this was where their little talk would end up from the beginning. Even in her shame, Azula took a mental note. This was how you got your underlings to serve you unconditionally and unflinchingly. Of course, she was no pawn. 

She was no pawn. 

“Name it, Father. What would you have me do?” Azula asked, feigning resignment. 

“Your new task is your old task,” Ozai proclaimed. “Or, rather, Zuko’s. The Avatar is alive, as you well know. You will find him, and bring him back to me in chains.”

Azula immediately starting thinking of a strategy. The Avatar hadn’t been difficult to track--or defeat--before. She’d round up Mai and Ty Lee and leave at dawn tomorrow. 

“Is there anything else you will require?” Azula asked, daring to lift her head. It felt like a monumental act of bravery, even with the Fire Lord’s back turned. Frankly, she’d been expecting something more difficult than killing a 12-year-old boy who often times simply refused to fight back.

Ozai turned and lifted her to her feet, looking her dead in the eye. “Your brother foolishly swore his allegiance to the Avatar in front of me. Where you find the little monk, you will find the traitor too.”

“Shall I capture him as well?” Azula was almost hoping her father would say yes, even if this would technically add to the difficulty of her task. It would simply be...cathartic. 

“No, Azula,” Ozai smiled darkly. “As I told him, I see now that banishment is far too merciful a punishment for treason.” Azula returned his smile, but a bit tenuously. “You will kill him,” Ozai concluded. “Swiftly and without remorse. Can I...depend on you again?”

Azula knelt one last time. “Yes, father,” she said, her pride and honor, snuffed out just seconds prior, starting to flicker like a candle again. “I will not fail you.”

“I know you won’t,” Ozai whispered, not voicing the threat. “You may leave.”

Azula stood, bowed, and hurried from the training room, already treating her new task with her signature singular focus. The assignment was as perfect for her now as it was months ago. It would require her to be...merciless.

The leaders of other nations would philosophize that mercy was the optimal way to rule, with harshness used only when necessary. Azula knew better, now even more than ever. Her father had just given a masterclass, showing her how to dispense mercy to underlings to inspire loyalty. 

That was all that talk really was, an...unorthodox way of teaching her a lesson.

She was no underling. She was not a pawn. 

After all, when she had killed the traitor and captured the Avatar, she’d receive her rightful hero’s welcome. Her father would restore her honor, officially. And there would be nothing standing in the way of her becoming the next Fire Lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favorite and most challenging chapter to write thus far. Ozai's emotional abuse wasn't solely reserved for Zuko. Although Azula was positioned as the golden child, the way she was raised was nothing short of manipulative. We all know how Zuko endlessly strives to please a father who will never love him, but Azula, although she has what she considers "love" from Ozai, would also be in a position of constantly searching for his approval. It creates a perfectionism complex, and I was interested in exploring what would happen (and how Ozai would manipulate her to his advantage) when she was caught in a failure. I don't find Azula to be a redeemable character, simply pitiable. I hope I pulled it off. Thanks for reading <3


	8. Before "The Serpent's Pass"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko struggles to grasp his new life as a refugee headed for Ba Sing Se.

Immediately before “The Serpent’s Pass”

If there was one word to describe every refugee jammed into the port in Full Moon Bay, it was ‘exhausted’. As Zuko and his uncle waded through the crowd (Iroh kindly saying ‘excuse me’ to each ragged soul they pushed past, Zuko having to restrain himself from simply shoving people), the exiled prince noted the diversity of the refugees. Dark-skinned and light; men, women, and children; even those dressed in rich clothing. No matter the way they presented themselves in terms of material possessions, everyone carried the same baggage. An uncomfortable feeling surged through Zuko--guilt, with a sprinkling of shame. Everyone here had been harmed, displaced, ruined by the Fire Nation. Including him. 

Was this really the Fire Prince’s new lot in life?

“There is no sense in wishing for days past, Lee” Iroh said calmly, as if reading his mind. Zuko hated being Lee. Hated when Uncle, the one tie that still bound him to his home, disposed with his proud royal name as easily and flippantly as he poured out a bad batch of tea. 

“Uncle, how do you always know what I’m thinking?” Zuko asked, annoyed. 

Iroh chuckled. “My nephew, even one with old eyes such as mine can enjoy a good book, so long as the letters are large enough.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Mushi still deals in riddles, I see.”

“And I would hope that Lee would be better at deciphering them,” Iroh jabbed. “You have never been good at hiding your emotions.”

Zuko frowned. “I’m sorry, Uncle. It’s a weakness.”

“Honesty is a weakness? Maybe in the court of the Fire Nation, nephew, but now we can live as we want. We can be honest with each other...and ourselves.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zuko whispered.

“It means that, now that you’re free of your quest to capture the Avatar, you can find out who you truly are. We both can.” Iroh gazed at the masses of blank-faced survivors. “Opportunity presents itself in surprising ways.”

Zuko reached out, grabbing his uncle’s arm and pulling him within whispering distance. “I am the prince of the Fire Nation. My life is there. My birthright is there. I don’t want a life in Ba Sing Se. We will lie low for a bit, and then we’ll resume my quest on our own.” Iroh frowned, and Zuko softened his tone. “Uncle, you’re the smartest man I know. Together, you and I can find the Avatar! We’ll be welcomed home as heroes!”

“Lee, I’m begging you--” Iroh started. 

“That isn’t my name!”

“It is now!” Iroh snapped, unusually stern. Zuko’s golden eyes widened. How could his uncle be so resigned to a life in nameless squalor?

“I’m begging you to realize that your quest...you were never supposed to succeed. Your father and sister wanted you out of the way so they could continue this war forever.”

“You’re sounding like a traitor,” Zuko said.

Iroh laughed. “Are we not both traitors already?”

“Once I bring Father the Avatar, he will clear our names,” Zuko insisted. 

“It was your father who made us outcasts in the first place!”

“Azula did that!”

“And who do you think sent her after us?”

Zuko scrunched his eyes shut. “What am I supposed to do, Uncle?” he asked, his voice breaking. “Being a prince, hunting the Avatar...it’s all I’ve ever known. I want it back. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

“Open your eyes, my nephew,” Iroh said gently. Zuko obeyed. “Look around.” He surveyed the crowd again, taking time to examine each face. The total exhaustion of mind, body, and spirit screamed out to him again. A line of people snaked its way out of a stone terminal. In the distance, he saw several booths, manned by apathetic-looking Earth Kingdom officials. This would be where their tickets, provided by that strange man Uncle had played Pai Sho with in the desert, would be declared valid or invalid. Zuko tried to put himself in the shoes of the family at the front of the line. The mother, tall, pale, and dark-haired, much like his own, was one of the few among the masses who attempted to carry themselves with any sort of pride. She had two sons, each one holding one of her hands. They were slumped with boredom, leaning against her legs, resting their heads on her hips. She stared ahead at the ticket booth as her husband rummaged in a rucksack for their passes. 

Whatever journey they had taken to get to this point, it could end so arbitrarily, at the behest of a bored employee or as a result of one mistake in a form. All the mother’s pride, all the time spent fighting for the lives of her children, thrown out the window. Zuko watched intently as the teller waved them forward. The mother firmly placed the family’s passes before the employee. The boys retreated into their father’s waiting arms. Were they frightened of the hawkish officer? After a few seconds, the stamp descended, and the family trudged through to the docks. Zuko sighed with relief, surprised how invested he was in the family’s crossing without knowing a single thing about their story.

“Everyone here,” Iroh’s voice snapped Zuko out of his reverie. “Is here because of the Fire Nation. I am relieved, Lee, to be away from the ships and the soldiers. I caused much of this pain.” Zuko remembered listening to his mother read Iroh’s letters from the siege at Ba Sing Se. His uncle had offered to show them the city once it was safely under Fire Nation control. But what stood out to Zuko now was a throwaway joke that Iroh had included in the letter. 

I hope you all may see it someday, if we don’t burn it to the ground first,” Iroh had written. And Zuko, at the time, had laughed unabashedly. Zuko was astonished that the gentle man in front of him could once talk so gleefully about the destruction of...the destruction of what? The enemy capital, he pictured Azula finishing the sentence. A haven for hundreds of thousands of innocents, his uncle’s voice retorted, slightly stronger than Azula’s. 

“You should be relieved too,” Iroh said. “All that time trapped in your ship...it made you into someone you should never have been.”

“You were that person once too, Uncle. You were the greatest general in our country’s history! Until you failed,” Zuko sneered. “It’s ironic. The city you failed to break now witnesses your return as a pitiful refugee. You had honor once. Why aren’t you proud of it?”

Uncle ignored the insults. He always did. And Zuko, recently, had tried to be nicer to his guardian. Iroh was the only one who was still there for him. But, more and more, he felt his uncle pulling him in a direction that was unfamiliar and distinctly dishonorable. 

Some days, Zuko’s mind felt like it was no longer his own. There were so many competing voices; his father’s, his sister’s, his uncle’s, even his mother’s. Ursa’s was the faintest, but when she spoke, Zuko never failed to listen. 

Now, she spoke again. So many paths, he imagined her saying. She’d pull him to her hip, much like that refugee mother had done with her children. But which will you choose? 

“I had no honor,” Iroh shook his head. “Because honor is not something that is given. It is something that is found. After I lost Lu Ten, I had to reconsider what role I wanted to play in the world. That moment has come for you too.”

“I want,” Zuko said, through gritted teeth. “My throne.” 

Do you? Ursa’s voice asked curiously. 

“That is no longer an option,” Iroh chided.

“Don’t...don’t say that, Uncle,” Zuko begged. 

“There is no use in wishing for days past,” Iroh said again. “You must decide what kind of future you want for yourself. You can build yourself a life of honor in Ba Sing Se.”

Rage surged through Zuko, and he marched his way over to an unoccupied bench and put his head in his hands. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what his uncle was saying. He just, quite literally, had no idea what to do. He was as aimless as a leaf in the wind. Iroh had once told him that the airbenders saw a leaf in the wind as the freest thing on Earth, but Zuko didn’t see it that way at all. Azula and Ozai were gusts, conversely buffetting him away from his home while keeping him from ever truly being free of their current. Iroh was a breeze, gently ruffling his growing hair with affection he’d come to begrudgingly appreciate. But breezes seemed directionless and slow. Iroh might be content to flow through life, making everyone he touched chuckle mildly to themselves, but Zuko wanted a gust. He just wanted it to be his own. He was tired of being the leaf, batted about at the whim of whoever felt like controlling him that day. 

Iroh sat down next to him, putting a warm, thick hand on his back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to make you angry. You know…”

Here we go, Zuko thought, remembering their exchange before he left to infiltrate the Northern Water Tribe. 

“You know I think of you as my own. I only want you to be happy.”

Zuko faced him, forcing a small smile to his face. “I know you do, Uncle.” Months ago, at the North, he had stiffened at Iroh’s embrace, only returning it out of a sense of obligation. Now, he met his eyes without hesitation.

“I went through this myself,” Iroh said, projecting calm and understanding. “You are right. I was a hero of our nation, the Dragon of the West. I would’ve been Fire Lord, too, had your father not interfered. But when my son became a casualty of my own honor, I felt just as lost as you are now. I had to find myself.”

“And what did you find, Uncle?” Zuko asked, genuinely curious for an answer that could help him on his own path. 

“I found a prince who needed me, and a tea recipe that needed perfecting.”

“Yeah, I bet I can guess which one is more important to you,” Zuko griped. 

Iroh belly-laughed. “Who says they are not related? The secret ingredient with both is love.”

Zuko groaned, but inside, he was beaming. Nobody had told him that they loved him since his mother left. “Okay, Uncle,” Zuko grumbled, attempting to keep his voice flat. “I promise I’ll give Ba Sing Se a chance. But I can’t say that my purpose in life will be perfecting a tea recipe.”

Iroh chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose I will just have to accept that.” 

“Thank you, Uncle,” Zuko said. “For everything.”

“No...Zuko,” Uncle replied, hesitating before deciding that the moment warranted the use of Zuko’s real name. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.” They stood up, a meter between them that felt like a chasm. But before Zuko knew it, his uncle was enfolding him in warm arms. This time, Zuko relaxed into the hug and wrapped his arms around Iroh’s broad back. After a long moment (a good moment, Zuko thought, smiling effusively), they let each other go. 

“Shall we get in line?” Iroh asked. 

“Let’s do it,” Zuko said, peering at the cavalcade of refugees waiting to be granted entry to Full Moon Bay. “Ugh, by the time we’re through, I think I’ll be as old as you!” Zuko whined. 

“You’ll be eighteen?” Iroh quipped. 

“You look terrible for eighteen,” Zuko retorted. 

“I’ll trim down once I’m in the city. No more sumptuous meals for the general. That’s a promise,” Iroh said seriously. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it. You should enjoy your roast duck, Uncle. Surely that’s a part of the Fire Nation you can hold on to.”

“I suppose so, Lee.” This time, Zuko didn’t cringe at his Earth Kingdom name. Lee wasn’t a mark of exile, it was a new beginning. 

“I suppose so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Zuko at all points of his arc, but season two Zuko is incredibly interesting to me. It's not just that he's torn between good and evil. It's like the season two finale title says: it's The Crossroads of Destiny, not The Crossroads of Good and Evil. He knows the Fire Nation caused a ton of pain, but it's his destiny to rule. He can't just give up on that. But Iroh is always there, through thick and thin, trying to steer him on the right path. 
> 
> Writing Iroh and Zuko is so much fun, but I struggled writing this chapter, trying to make it not sound cheesy or repetitive. I considered not posting tonight and undertaking an arduous rewrite tomorrow. But in that vein, a massive shoutout is owed to JadeDove, who helped me cross the finish line here and now. Check out her stuff if you like Star Wars and extremely witty writing!


	9. During "The Blind Bandit"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Earth Rumble VI, Toph searches for an identity beyond The Blind Bandit.

During “The Blind Bandit”

Toph bent the earthen door open and marched into the antechamber. She quickly straightened her spine, closing her eyes because she knew it spooked the other competitors when she walked exactly where she was meant to be going without ‘seeing’. She could feel their heads tracking her warily, sense their heart rates jacking up. Meanwhile, she breathed slowly, trying to fill her lungs with what sparse air existed in this underground pit. But there was one man in this room who Toph couldn’t intimidate with simple body language. 

“You’re late,” Xin Fu sneered, standing ‘imposingly’ in front of her and crossing his arms. His footfalls were heavy, inelegant, smashing into the earth like a hammer wielded by an unskilled craftsman. 

“Don’t worry, boss man,” Toph replied breezily. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“I should hope not,” Xin Fu rumbled. “There are those in the audience who believe I orchestrated your last win as part of some sort of narrative.”

“Really? Judging from the earthbending of these lily-livers,” Toph jabbed a thumb at her gaudily muscled competition. “I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out they were taking dives for me.”

Xin Fu chuckled, but, to be fair, he really tried his best to hide it. He would’ve succeeded if a normal person was looking at him. But Toph felt the slight flex of his abdomen, the tiny puff of air that flitted from his nostrils. “I don’t make a habit of putting little girls in my competitions, Bandit,” he growled. “If you do not win tonight, the rumors will gain more credence, and I will be ruined.”

“Man, you don’t have to get all in my face just to tell me to win,” Toph laughed. “I was going to do that anyway.”

“Then we will have no issues.”

“Nope,” Toph said, brushing past him and taking her seat on one of the long earth benches that ran along the wall. She made sure not to sit next to any of the other combatants, but the closest one to her, an especially large man dressed head to toe in frivolous mining equipment, still scooted further away and starting talking quietly with the wild-haired, relatively skinny man to his right. 

Clearly nobody was interested in small talk, so Toph took the opportunity to center herself before the competition. And that didn’t mean any of that deep-breathing stuff that pansy Master Yu “taught” her (she knew how to breathe, thanks, but no thanks). She cracked her knuckles, one by one, relishing the deep, satisfying pops, then rolled her head in a circle, searching for the knots in her neck. The sounds were having the desired effect on the other earthbenders. 

Ugh, she thought. Is this even going to be a challenge?

She decided to give them a break from the wordless psych-outs. She wanted them to build their confidence back up, convince themselves that her victory last tournament was a fluke, that she really was just a little blind girl who didn’t know a Trembler from a Rock-a-lanche. 

Pretending to be meek came naturally to her, anyways. She’d almost missed the call time for the tournament, all because of a lesson on table manners. But she’d played along, knowing that seeming in a hurry to end the lesson would arouse suspicion. According to her parents, she couldn’t possibly have anywhere else to be but the family compound. 

She couldn’t possibly have anywhere else to be, for what seemed like the rest of her life. 

Toph almost wished her parents would come to see one of her matches. Maybe that would convince them that she was not as delicate as one of the useless pieces of pottery that adorned the main house. But Toph knew it would backfire. If they saw her fighting, no matter how much butt she kicked, they’d assume she was a victim. Assume she needed more help, more protection, more supervision. 

She didn’t know how much more of this life she could take. She was already sitting on a respectable pile of prize money. If she won today, she could run away, set herself up with a modest place in another town. She wasn’t worried about traveling alone, being the greatest earthbender in the world. 

But once she used up her cash, how would she live? She couldn’t bring herself to steal from her parents, despite how much she…

Do I hate them? Toph thought. Nevermind, not important. 

She wouldn’t steal from them, which would mean she’d have to find a job. Easy enough, even if most people would hesitate to hire her based on initial appearances. The real wrinkle would be when her parents sent the entire family security detail (really, it was more like an army) after her. Fine, she thought. I’ll deal with them too. She blew her long bangs out of her face.

But it felt like an injustice that she even had to think like this. Why couldn’t she just be honest? Why couldn’t her parents just support her living honestly?

Toph almost started crying, but caught herself, remembering where she was. But it was too late. One of the fighters, the fan-favorite Boulder, sauntered over and sat down next to her. 

“The Boulder noticed you’re looking a little down,” The Boulder said, voice saturated with mock-compassion. 

“We’re not out there yet,” Toph said dryly. “You can drop all the “the Boulder” hooey.”

“From the minute the Boulder sets foot in this room, to the minute his last opponent has been vanquished,” he drew out the ‘sh’ sound in the ‘vanquished’, moving his face even closer to hers. His breath reeked of mint. Toph supposed he was expecting some post-match...activities...with some of his innumerable fangirls. “He is locked in, ready for an honorable battle.”

Toph chuckled. “You know, I’m disappointed I didn’t get to smack you out of the arena last time. Guess you got eliminated too early. Who was it you lost to? Don’t tell me it was Fire Nation Man!”

“The Boulder loses to nobody!” he blustered. “Especially not some kid who looks like she’s about to run screaming from the arena before the competition even begins.”

“Look, if you don’t have anything real to talk to me about, you can back off. I hope you’ll make it far enough to face me this time.”

“The Boulder promises he will destroy you, Bandit,” he whispered before standing up. She felt his chest muscles flex proudly, then unflex, mildly embarrassed as the tiny brain attached to the muscles realized his swan-peacocking had no effect on her. 

One of many perks of not being able to see, Toph thought. 

“Looking forward to it,” she deadpanned. The Boulder strolled back to his side of the antechamber. 

Well, that had been a nice distraction. Toph reached out with her earthbending, feeling for the breathing rhythms of the other fighters. Many were engaged in jovial conversation, heartrates completely relaxed. The Boulder seemed to be the only one, other than her, taking anything seriously. The rest were probably content to collect their consolation gold, and leave the rumble without serious injuries. 

Not Toph. Even if using this money to run away from home would be illogical, Toph needed to win. If only to prove to herself, yet again, that she could be the fighter she’d dreamed about being since that day in the cave with the badgermoles. If she treated Xin Fu with the brownnosing he wanted, she was sure she’d be his favorite fighter. The man was driven only by money; if he thought he could turn her into a compelling character, she would be showered with all the special treatment he had to offer. 

She couldn’t be his ‘character’, though, even if some part of her wanted the fame and fortune that went along with it. If she made the papers as the face of Earth Rumble VI, her parents would find out.

She couldn’t be the character her parents had made for her either, though. 

The Blind Bandit could see who she wanted to be, but everyone else seemed to shut their eyes whenever they saw her. 

She was Toph Beifong, blind twelve-year-old. And she was the greatest earthbender on Earth. She only wished someone would give her the opportunity to be...all of herself. 

“Gentlemen and...lady,” Xin Fu drawled, snapping Toph to attention once again. She really needed to stay aware. This wasn’t the place for emotions. 

“We’re about to get going. Let’s have a nice, clean show, understood? If anyone gets injured, I’m not paying your doctor’s bill.”

“Yessir!” the fighters called.

“Sure,” Toph said, mainly to herself. Xin Fu loped onto the stage and the others filed out behind him. They sat down on another bench next to the battlefield. A downpour of chants and jeers flooded Toph’s headspace. Most of the calls were worship for The Boulder, a few mockingly serenading the Big Bad Hippo, and a smattering of support for each of the other competitors. Toph didn’t hear a single cheer for her, but that only served as motivation. When all the dust had settled, when all the boulders had been chucked and audience members nearly killed, they’d be chanting her name. 

That is, if they knew her name. Which they didn’t. 

Maybe if they love the Blind Bandit, it’s the same as loving me, Toph thought.

Xin Fu was calling the first match, and Toph turned to watch. It didn’t last long. The Hippo tried his best, but his strength couldn’t overwhelm the Boulder, who was by no means a finesse fighter himself. Toph chuckled to herself. If she had been in the Boulder’s place, the fight wouldn’t have lasted a quarter as long as it did. 

Next, the Boulder dispatched Fire Nation Man, as the show dictated. Toph laughed at this too, but not because of any actual humor in the match. She couldn’t believe the audience ate up the fake fight. Didn’t they have any appreciation for the proud displays of earthbending “skill”? 

Who was she kidding? It was all theatre.

Toph barely paid attention as the rest of the benders squared off. As champion, she wouldn’t have to fight until one winner had emerged from the rabble. She distracted herself by reaching out into the crowd, poring over each individual body, each heartbeat. None stood out to her, until she scanned one thin, bald boy. He was clearly trying to hide his baldness with a wide-brimmed soldier’s hat, but Toph didn’t think he was fooling anyone, even those who couldn’t see as well as she could. 

He was sitting in the front row--a rookie mistake--already, a boulder had slammed into the stands just inches from where his male companion was sitting. But it was the way this boy sat that struck Toph. It was as if he wasn’t tethered to the earth at all. It was like he was levitating. Nothing about him said ‘earthbender’. An earthbender’s body wasn’t so...free. 

Toph kept her focus on this boy, even after she was called onto the field to face the Boulder. When she defeated him with a humiliating groin-related flourish (hope your fangirls won’t be too disappointed, Toph thought vindictively), the boy smiled and started talking eagerly to his companions.

Even from a distance, Toph could read his emotions like...well...not a book, exactly. But she knew that just as she had noticed him, pinpointed him as a unique vibration in a sea of foot-stomping souls, something about her had struck him too. 

Maybe this strange boy would be the listener she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although Toph's identity is never really questioned in the show--in fact, she's one of the most self-assured characters in the Avatar universe--I think that, up until she joined the Gaang, she would've struggled to balance being the Blind Bandit with being the good little Beifong child. The fact is, the Blind Bandit isn't really Toph Beifong, in the most literal sense. It's a version of herself that her parents force her to repress, so Earth Rumble VI is an outlet for her frustration (as well as a space for her to joyously kick some ass). Still, I think that, once she gets over Aang being entitled to earthbending training ("I had a vision in a swamp"--really, Aang?) and taking her prize money with airbending tomfoolery, he represents an opportunity for her to be unapologetically Toph. She doesn't have to disguise herself as the Blind Bandit anymore when she joins the Gaang.


	10. During "Sozin's Comet, Part 1"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang and Zuko hash out a difficult dilemma.

During “Sozin’s Comet, Part 1”

Aang heard the creak on the wooden porch, but stubbornly refused to open his eyes and turn around. Maybe, if he ignored her, Katara would lose her will to try and console him. The porch creaked again, louder this time. It was as if she thought she could sneak-attack the dilemma out of him. Another step, and Aang finally gave up on continuing his meditation. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Katara,” he breathed, forcing himself to remain calm. “But I really just want to be left alone right now.”

“Katara?” a raspy voice said from behind Aang. “I thought your earthbending sense was better than that.” 

Aang finally turned around and saw Zuko, arms crossed, standing before him like he couldn’t believe he was actually making himself do this. “It’s a work in progress, it’s harder for me when I’m angry or…” Aang started. 

“I can tell,” Zuko said, no humor in his voice. “Why were you expecting Katara?”

“I guess she’s usually the one to cheer me up.”

“Yeah, well, you kind of yelled at her,” Zuko reminded Aang. 

“Right…” Aang scratched the back of his head. “So why’d you come out here? To tell me to give up on my beliefs again?”

Zuko shook his head and sat down, crossing his legs to mirror Aang’s position. By now, this was a familiar arrangement. Not that Aang would’ve ever guessed based on his first-through-tenth impressions of Zuko, but the guy loved to meditate, and regularly included it as part of his and Aang’s training. 

“I want to tell you a story,” Zuko said simply. Aang’s eyes widened, and Zuko took his silence as the go-ahead to start talking. 

“One day, three years ago, I wanted to go to one of my father’s war meetings. He didn’t want to allow me inside, but my uncle let me into his throne room. Uncle told me not to speak, and I didn’t, not for a while, anyway.”

“Your father didn’t want you to sit in on war meetings?” Aang asked, already absorbed. Zuko so rarely opened up that Aang made sure to hang on to every word. “Seems like something he’d want the Fire Prince to do. Teach you how to be evil correctly.”

Zuko ignored the tease. “I don’t know why he kept me out of the meetings. Certainly not for my protection,” Zuko said ruefully. “But I wish I had never went in that day.”

“Why?” Aang asked. 

“One of the generals told my father that he was going to sacrifice an entire division of new recruits as a distraction, while the rest of his soldiers took some city. I spoke up. I told the general that it was cruel and wrong.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t appreciate your feedback,” Aang said wryly. 

Zuko shook his head. The firebender closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reopened them. “No, he didn’t. But the real problem was that my father didn’t either. He said it was disrespectful to the general, and he ordered me to fight an Agni Kai.”

“Agni Kai?”

“A firebending duel to the death. Usually it’s reserved for nobles. Hopefully your friend Kuzon would’ve never had to know about it,” Zuko said quietly. “The next day, I was ready to face the general. He was an old man, known for his strategy, not his firebending. I knew I could beat him. But when I turned around on the field of battle, it wasn’t the general I was facing.”

Aang’s eyes began to water. “No…”

“Yes,” Zuko confirmed. “Immediately, I dropped to my knees, begging my father for forgiveness. He didn’t listen.”

“Zuko…” Aang whispered, but he couldn’t find any words that he thought would remotely console his friend. He could figure out how the story ended, but he wanted to let Zuko finish telling it. Aang was sure it had been difficult for Zuko to work up the courage to tell him what happened. 

“I still remember what he said before it happened,” Zuko rasped. “‘You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.’ A few days later, as soon as I could tolerate the pain enough to leave my bed, he banished me. He said that by refusing to fight, I had shown cowardice.”

Anger clawed its way across Aang’s face. He glared at the Fire Lord from across the nation. “By refusing to fight your own father, you showed cowardice?” Aang asked furiously. 

Zuko nodded, falling silent for a few seconds as he took several deep breaths. Aang closed his eyes too. There was no wind that night, just the sound of the exiled prince’s ragged breathing and the whispering waves in the distance. 

“Aang,” Zuko broke the silence. “My father does not deserve to exist in this world, in the world you’re about to rebuild.”

A tear fought its way free of Aang’s eye as he realized why Zuko had told him this story. “It’s not who I am…” Aang cried. 

“It’s who you have to be!” Zuko shouted, the sudden change in his tone taking Aang by surprise. “He’s caused so many people so much pain,” Zuko continued in a more level voice. “The world will never be peaceful with him still in it.”

“That’s not true,” Aang protested. “We could imprison him!”

“Where?” Zuko growled. “The Boiling Rock? You think throwing him in a cooler a couple times is going to break him? He’s the best firebender in the world.”

“Then banish him!” Aang pleaded. “Cut him off from his army, he can’t take over the world by himself!” 

“Did you not hear anything I told you this morning? He’s not trying to take over the world. He’s going to destroy it. Everything except the Fire Nation.”

Aang stood up and walked to the balcony railing, staring out to sea in search of answers he knew he wouldn’t find. Why couldn’t this be easier for him? If anyone deserved to die by his hand, it was the Fire Lord. He could almost feel his past lives shaking their heads. What would Roku say? If the previous Avatar had acted sooner, all the bloodshed could’ve been stopped. Aang had the chance to end this war in just a few days. He had the chance to prevent another hundred years of suffering. 

But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t answer violence with more violence. If he allowed himself the power to decide who “deserved” to live and die, he wouldn’t be able to control himself--to control his power. He remembered the desert, the unimaginable rush that set his chi on fire. The feeling that whatever element he decided to throw at them, his attack would land. He would’ve been unstoppable. Those sandbenders...he would have killed them for what they did to Appa. He never wanted to feel that way again. If he opened himself to the possibility of taking the Fire Lord’s life, it would only be a matter of time before he took others’ lives. Maybe even innocents, caught in the Avatar’s maelstrom. 

A rough hand shook his shoulder. Zuko had joined him at the balcony, glaring. His scarred eye was little more than a thin golden island in a sea of red. “Aang, believe it or not, I understand. You know how long it took me to join you. I know what it’s like to give up who you think you are.”

“I don’t just think I’m an Air Nomad, Zuko!” Aang shot back.

“That’s not what I meant!” Zuko put his hands in his hair.

“Why are you so eager for me to kill your own father anyway?” Aand pressed. Zuko’s eyes widened, and Aang immediately regretted saying something so awful, especially after his friend had been so vulnerable. 

“Zuko, I didn’t mean--”

“He’s not my father,” Zuko said simply, staring off the edge of the balcony. 

“What?” Was there some sort of scandalous royal intrigue Aang didn’t know about?

“My uncle taught me what real fatherhood is. I’ve stopped thinking of the man who scarred me as my father. Would you, if you were in my position?”

“I don’t know,” Aang said quietly. “The Air Nomads were always good to me. And kids were always raised sort of...by the group.”

“I don’t mean to disrespect your culture,” Zuko started. He probably shouldn’t finish that sentence, Aang thought warily. “But you’re the Avatar. You’re supposed to protect all people, and you have a bit of every nation in you. You can’t just think like an airbender. The world needs you to get tougher.”

“I...I can’t,” Aang sighed. “I promise that, after all of this, after I...confront him, Ozai will no longer be in power. But I don’t know what else to tell you. I can’t kill him. It’s against my nature.” Aang knew this wouldn’t convince Zuko, but he legitimately feared he could not do it. 

He imagined the moment. Ozai exhausted, bruised, and beaten, kneeling before Aang, wreathed in all four elements. Aang bringing his hand down in the same slashing motion as he had done at the Northern Water Tribe when he had fused briefly with the Ocean Spirit. Ozai desperately breathing fire at the tornado of elements, to no avail. A guttering flame leaked from his mouth as the life left his eyes. 

“I trust you,” Zuko said.

“You do?” Aang asked, surprised. “You’ve spent the last few minutes basically telling me to go back to ‘airbender preschool.’”

“You’re my friend,” Zuko admitted, blushing in the moonlight. “I know that, whatever happens, you’ll come through. The world has no other choice.”

“That doesn’t exactly take the pressure off.” Aang said wryly. 

“Would anything take the pressure off at this point?”

“I guess not,” Aang admitted. 

“But, as your friend, I’m asking you to consider what I’m saying. Just like you don’t see any way you can kill him, I don’t see any way you can’t. If you won’t do it for the world, do it for all of us. Me, Toph, Sokka and Suki,” Zuko paused. “Katara.”

Aang blanched. How much did Zuko know about his feelings? How was he this bad at hiding them? Had he told everyone about whatever he did know? And how, he reminded himself, was this relevant right now?

You didn’t think about whether the timing was right when you kissed her at the play, a guilty voice needled him. 

Of course, what Zuko didn’t know was that Katara was the only thing outside of his own mind holding him back from unleashing the Avatar State on anyone who stood in his way. All of a sudden, he was back in the desert yet again, floating in the middle of a tornado of sand until a warm pair of arms enfolded him, holding him until the white bloodlust left his eyes. Then he was back on the cliffside at the Eastern Air Temple, admonishing Guru Pathik for even suggesting that he let Katara go. Aang almost laughed at the irony--Zuko asking Aang to kill on behalf of the girl who had stopped him from killing more than once. 

“That’s where you don’t understand, Zuko,” Aang said confidently. “Katara would trust me to figure this out on my own. She’s believed in me since the day we met. But you won’t do the same.” 

“I want to believe in you, Aang. But, as you said,” Zuko lifted his hand from the railing and shook his head. “When you figure out a way to defeat the Fire Lord without taking his life, I’d love to hear it.” With that, the prince retreated back into the beach house, leaving Aang to resume his meditation, alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally, this may be my favorite chapter yet, so I really hope y'all enjoyed. Katara tries to follow Aang after he yells at her and storms off, but Zuko stops her. Ironically, I think Zuko, if anyone, could've convinced Aang to kill Ozai. Nobody in the Gaang, not even Katara, has been affected by the Fire Nation as much as Aang and Zuko. Additionally, no pair in the Gaang has had their relationship change as much as Aang and Zuko. I would've loved to see Zuko take one last shot at convincing Aang to kill Ozai in the series, and I think that Zuko would've had to be vulnerable as he is here.  
> Also, wow, ten chapters, so I want to take a moment to thank y'all for the incredible support, kudos, and reviews. When I get that email notification for a new comment, my heart just soars. But rest assured, this is not a farewell message. I've got a lot more I want to write about :)


	11. During "The Warriors of Kyoshi"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Suki get to know each other while they catch a breath from training.

During “The Warriors of Kyoshi”

“Here,” Suki said, charitably offering Sokka a cup of something cold and greenish. “It’ll give you your strength back.”

Sokka accepted the drink, smiling arrogantly. “Please, as if I need any more strength. I was already quite enough for you to handle.”

“You got one lucky shot in!” Suki retorted. “You spent the rest of your time knocked onto your butt!”

“But I didn’t spend all the time on my butt,” Sokka countered, wiggling his eyebrows. “That’s more than I expected.”

Suki pointed at him with her war fan. “So he admits it! He admits to being the inferior warrior!”

Sokka groaned. “Didn’t I already admit to that when I asked you to teach me? Why do you have to make me say it again? You’re really that bent on depriving me of my manhood?” He gesticulated dramatically to accentuate his grievances. 

Suki laughed, a rather mean-spirited laugh, if Sokka was being honest. “If this,” Suki waved a hand at...all of him. Sokka peered down at his outfit, which hung even looser than it was supposed to on his scrawny frame. “Is manhood, you could do with losing some of it.” Suki finished. 

“You might be right,” Sokka begrudgingly admitted. 

“Might?” Suki pressed. 

“Can’t you just let me have...anything?” Sokka whined. He took his first sip of his mystery drink, and nearly spat it out. He had never had tea, but he was pretty sure that’s what this was. He was also pretty sure tea was supposed to be served hot. 

“Why is this tea so cold?” he asked. 

“It’s green tea. Good for after training. I like it cold, but I can heat it for you if you want,” Suki offered. 

“No, thanks, I guess I’ll just get used to it.” Sokka took another sip, and the flavor didn’t feel as strong this time. He still couldn’t keep a straight face, though, and Suki noticed. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m not trying to be rude.”

“That didn’t stop you yesterday,” Suki remarked. 

Sokka threw his head back. “Ugh, I’m making an effort here, lady!” Suki smiled and punched his arm. 

“Relax. If I hadn’t forgiven you, I wouldn’t be wasting my time sitting here drinking tea with a sexist cow-pig.”

“Hey, formerly sexist cow-pig,” Sokka protested. Suki laughed. Fully. Musically. He decided he liked her laugh, and really wanted to hear more of it. Well, for a funny guy such as himself, that shouldn’t be too much of a challenge. He drank again, and started to notice the finer points of the flavor. It was sweet, but you had to be patient with it, really notice the sweetness as it nestled itself in distinct regions of your tongue. In that way, it was a lot like Water Tribe food. Take stewed sea prunes, for example. Did they objectively taste like barely-veiled oceanwater and feel somehow both too dry and too slick at the same time? Yes. Did Sokka love them anyway, and were they already the thing he craved most from home? A resounding yes. 

“So, what, they don’t have tea where you’re from?” Suki asked curiously. 

“It’s not so much that we don’t have tea,” Sokka shrugged, knitting his hands together and reopening them, palms facing up. “We don’t have leaves.”

“You’re from the desert? I guess that’s why you came with such heavy coats. This would be freezing to you.”

A distant part of Sokka’s mind registered that they were treading dangerously close to talking about the weather, and the second-most important lesson that his father had imparted upon him before leaving for the Earth Kingdom (number one being ‘defend your home to your last breath’) was ‘if you’re talking to a woman about the weather, give up, you’ve already lost’. 

“Actually, this is pretty warm. Katara and I are from the South Pole,” Sokka said. 

Suki’s eyes widened, as if he suddenly became a lot more interesting to her. I’ll take it, Sokka thought. “You’re Water Tribe!” Suki gasped. “Wait, are you guys waterbenders?”

“Katara is. Guess the spirits decided I wasn’t worthy,” Sokka quipped, but Suki didn’t catch the sarcasm.

“No, don’t think of it like that,” she touched his arm briefly. Well, if that’s the result, Sokka joked to himself, maybe I’ll pretend to be sad. 

“I know. I don’t,” Sokka said reassuringly. “There’s some perks to being a nonbender. For instance, I don’t have to worry about accidentally freezing my sister to the ground all the time.”

“And she is worried about that?”

“I wish she’d be more worried about that,” Sokka grumbled, and was rewarded with another high, clear laugh. “What about you?” he asked. “Ever wish you were a bender?”

“Not really,” Suki shrugged. “There aren’t any benders on the island, and even if there were, I don’t think I’d feel threatened by them or anything.”

“No, you definitely wouldn’t be threatened,” Sokka let slip, and he could’ve sworn he saw her blush through her makeup. No, that’s stupid, he thought to himself. You can’t see anything through that stuff. 

“But I do look at that Kyoshi statue sometimes and think how cool it would be to bend all four elements. You’re lucky. You get to travel around with the Avatar.”

“Well, you should hear him talk to you about the benefits of being a vegetarian and decide for yourself whether he’s really so fun to hang around.”

Suki looked shocked. “You’re not a vegetarian?” she asked, as if she’d never heard anything more offensive in her life. 

“Um...no? Sorry?” He wanted to be sorry, he would pretend to be sorry if it meant not making her mad. But would he even entertain the notion of giving up meat for her? No. 

What do you mean ‘for her’? He thought, uninspringly but rationally, to himself. You just met her, and you’re going to be leaving this place in two days, max. 

“I’m kidding, Sokka,” she said. “You’ll have to try some koi later. The fishermen bring it in fresh every day.”

“You hunt those giant things?”

“No, we hunt the babies.”

“Well, that’s not as honorable,” Sokka said, parroting her speech about the symbolism of every little detail in the Kyoshi Warrior uniform.

“We do what we have to,” Suki said seriously. 

“Believe me, I understand.” A silence bubbled and grew between them until it threatened to destroy any chance of continuing the conversation. 

“When all the men of our tribe left to go fight in the Earth Kingdom, Katara and I had to lead everyone who remained. We hunted, we cooked, we cleaned. All the while knowing that as soon as one warship landed at our shore, we were toast.”

“Why would the men just leave you defenseless like that?” Suki paused, considering. “I guess my bigger question is why none of the women were trained to fight as well, but were you the only fighter left in the tribe after all the men left?”

This stung, more than a little. Sokka remembered hastily smearing on his war paint and packing his bag just as his dad had taught him, running out to get on one of the departing sailboats, and being gruffly, but warmly, ordered to stay behind. He wasn’t man enough to join the war effort, but he wasn’t boy enough to feel content just waiting out the foreseeable future with a ‘tribe’ full of women and children. “My dad and the other men were brave. I don’t hold it against them for leaving when they knew they’d be fighting for what’s right. I just wish I could’ve joined them.”

“And as for why none of the women were trained to fight,” he added. “I don’t know if you could tell, but we do things a little differently in our tribe.”

This earned another laugh, but it was a sad one this time. “Your tribe needed you. That’s part of being a great warrior--knowing where you’re needed the most.”

“Says you,” he mumbled bitterly. “You’re the leader of the coolest fighting force I’ve ever seen.” Was that a blush? That was most unmistakably a blush, right? Sokka could’ve seen it from the other side of town. “You’ll always be needed.”

“So will you,” Suki smiled gently. “Just maybe not in the way you expect. Now finish your tea. And besides, you haven’t seen that many other fighting forces.”

Sokka took a big swig, forgetting about trying to note the subtleties in the flavor. He wanted to get back to training, to feel whatever scientific benefit the tea supposedly had. “Well, you’re cooler than the six-year-olds I tried to train.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” he said cheerfully, even though he wasn’t exactly cheered up. 

“You know, the tea won’t help you if you drink it all at once,” Suki said. Sokka noticed she had barely finished half of her cup. She raised it to her crimson-painted lips, taking a slow, methodical drink.

“You’re just preparing me for when I feel nothing,” Sokka teased. “This tea doesn’t do anything to anyone, does it?”

“Are you questioning another ancient Kyoshi tradition?” Suki asked angrily. 

Sokka gulped. “No, of course not!” he fibbed. “I have nothing but respect for this great culture of--”

“Relax, I’m messing with you. Again,” Suki raised an eyebrow. “It’s too easy. You gotta toughen up your mind if you want to strengthen your body.”

“So...not an ancient tradition. Because that would explain why it tastes so...bracing. People don’t like to change the things they’ve always done.”

“Like not training women to defend themselves and their homes,” Suki jabbed. 

“Like making horrible tea!”

“I saw you drink that whole thing!” Suki put her hands on her hips, which would’ve looked strange on anyone else in a seated position, but with her, it looked perfect. Sokka imagined most things she did would look perfect, but that was besides the point. “But no, it’s my father’s brew. So you’re not insulting the Kyoshi Warriors, just my family,” she said sweetly. “That ease your guilt?”

“No,” Sokka groaned, putting his head on his hand. Suki laughed and downed the rest of her tea. “But you said…” Sokka started. 

“Yeah,” she replied nonchalantly. “But I don’t need any tea benefits to kick your butt again.” She cartwheeled away, landing perfectly on her feet and snapping open her war fan in one fluid motion. Sokka fumbled at his belt for his fan and tried to shake his hand and open it as she had. Nothing happened. She walked back over to him, slowly and dramatically shaking her head.

“You flick your wrist, like this,” she closed her fan and reopened it, even faster than she had before. The thing looked like some golden bird taking flight. “Now you try,” she ordered. Sokka flicked his wrist madly, like he was trying to dislodge some bird droppings from the outside of his gloves. 

“Okay, stop!” Suki said. “You’re gonna throw that thing across the room.” She stepped even closer. He could smell her makeup. It definitely smelled better than the oily stuff he used to paint his face back home. This smelled fresh, healthy, almost flowery. No, definitely flowery. He couldn’t identify which flower if you held a knife to his throat, but still. Flowers.

Suki took his hand, which still held the fan limply. She stepped to his side and put a hand on the small of his back, too. Well, this doesn’t seem necessary for the instruction, but, hey, who’s complaining? Sokka thought. She guided him through the motion, her words dripping through and out of his mind like a melting icicle. Somehow, when she asked him to try the fan unfurling thing again, he nailed it, despite having comprehended nothing from her...careful instruction. 

“Well, that’s over with,” she said. Was it wishful thinking, or did Sokka detect a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Now, come at me. Remember what you learned before. Anticipate. Turn my energy against me. For the greatest warrior in the Southern Water Tribe, it should be no problem.”

Sokka smiled and charged. She’d meant the comment sarcastically, but he still felt his shoulders relax, his nerves become slightly less frayed. He was a warrior, and turning into a pretty good one at that. And she had been right. By staying behind that day when his father went off to war, he ended up finding a place he was needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just rewatched this episode last night, and Suki is underratedly funny. I love their banter, and wanted to write some more of it! Thanks for reading.


	12. Before "The Firebending Masters"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang and Katara discuss her mistrust of Zuko.

Before "The Firebending Masters"

Aang didn't need his seismic sense to tell him Katara had woken up. Through the months of traveling together, just as the group usually fell asleep in a certain order, they usually woke in a set order too. Aang liked to get in a morning meditation as the sun rose, which meant he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed well before the others. Katara was second, as she had assigned herself the role of preparing breakfast. To be fair, both Aang and Sokka (okay, Aang admitted to himself, mostly just me) had offered innumerable times to help her out, but she almost always refused. Perhaps it was for the best. Her cooking had improved greatly over the course of their journey, and Aang, while very willing to learn the kitchen ropes, was also quite satisfied with receiving a quality breakfast each day.

Toph was third, for no particular reason other than that Aang and Katara were early risers and Sokka, now that they had pretty much abandoned his military-style schedule of several weeks prior, had resumed his habit of waking up obscenely late. The Duke, Haru, and Teo would likely fall into some predictable order in between Toph and Sokka.

And there was no telling quite yet where their newest companion, Prince Zuko, would fall.

But Aang, despite being in what was supposed to be a meditative trance, had learned to listen for the telltale soft rustle of a sleeping bag, the muted crunch of her bare feet on dewy tropical leaves and ancient stone, and even the sound of her laying siege to the knots that had formed in her thick hair overnight. He wanted to be the first to greet her every morning. Somehow, he felt that was important to...whatever his end goal was with her.

Oh, well, he supposed he could come right out and admit it to himself. He wanted to be with her. Girlfriend and boyfriend. Partners. Loves (but not lovers, not for a while yet). That was the end goal.

And hadn't they reached the end? The invasion had failed, their forces had been scattered or locked up. They had landed in a disgraced heap at the Western Air Temple, in and of itself a reminder of the failures of Aang's predecessor, and Aang himself. But before the invasion...oh, yes, that had happened.

She had been taken by surprise, Aang knew, even with his lack of serious experience. In the first second or two he had been kissing more teeth than lips. But then she had kissed him back. That much was certain. He remembered the way her lips had decided they were all in, how every millisecond seemed to take an eon. But, in the end, he broke it off. He had to. If they had kissed a few seconds longer he would've forgotten that the war existed.

It was good, then, that she was now awake. His head was now decidedly un-clear, and he doubted he would be able to reassume a meditative state anyway. He walked over to her. She was already crouched over a pile of sticks and leaves, scraping their sparkrocks together as gingerly as possible so as not to wake the others while still igniting a blaze.

"Morning," he said as nonchalantly as possible, while trying to control his eyes, who were poring over every smooth wave and frizzy newly-split end of her hair.

"Good morning, Aang," Katara replied quietly. She finally got an adequate spark and their pile of kindling caught fire, a miniature sunrise in and of itself.

Well, he had only planned their conversation up to this point. Since when had he had to plan their conversations? Surely one kiss hadn't irreparably damaged their chemistry as friends? Since when did introducing romance ever make things awkward?

Ask her if she wants to do an activity together, he imagined Sokka teasing him. That worked for me.

Luckily, Katara spoke first. "Aang, we should talk," she said in her serious voice. Usually this meant she was disappointed or worried about him in some way, but Aang could think of only one thing that the two of them seriously needed to address. He dared to hope...maybe she'd confirm that she shared his feelings for her.

He sat cross-legged next to her, but not too close, but not too far either. Monkey feathers, when had simply sitting down with her become a whole thought process too?

"Yeah, we should," Aang said, his voice catching in his throat. "Katara, ever since we first-"

"I think you made a mistake letting Zuko join us," she said flatly. "He's a wolf-bat in koala-sheep's clothing."

Oh. She didn't want to talk about the kiss. In fact, now that Aang thought about it, Katara had acted entirely normal to him in the few days since the invasion. But it shouldn't be normal! Aang whined to himself. Okay, he had kissed her, not the other way around. But she had definitely kissed him back, and there was no reason for her to do that unless she wanted to. This time, they weren't worried about dying in a cave. It wasn't a desperate last-ditch plan. It was something Aang had been wanting to do for months. But Aang centered himself, quashing his frustrations for the time being. Zuko was a legitimate concern too. More legitimate, the rational side of his brain reminded him. He has tried to kill you many times.

"I hear you, I do," Aang said placatingly. "But I need a firebending teacher, and I don't see any other option. Besides, if worst comes to worst, it's," he counted briefly. Their gang had expanded since the invasion. "Seven on one."

"That's your contingency plan? The fact that you're already thinking about a fight should tell you he isn't trustworthy, Aang!"

"Okay, well what about Appa and Toph? Appa seemed to like him, and Toph said that he hadn't lied at all when he was talking to us. We wouldn't have even found Appa if it weren't for Zuko, now that I think of it."

"Maybe he figured out a way to stay calm enough so Toph couldn't tell he was lying! And are you really relying on Appa for security now?"

"The monks did say animals were the best judge of character," Aang said.

"Better than me?" Katara growled. "Better than Toph and Sokka?"

Now Aang was frustrated. "Toph and Sokka came around! Why haven't you?" he shouted. His voice echoed around the cliffside. Aang quickly scanned the sleeping bags, praying he hadn't woken anyone up. There was no movement, but he had a bigger problem. Katara was looking him dead in the eye, her own eyes somehow glassy with tears and stony with anger at the same time.

"Fine," she said, grabbing their bag of rice. She angrily bent the water out of a nearby shrub, killing the plant and depositing its lifeblood in a pot along with some rice. "Go finish your meditation or whatever and I won't say I told you so when the Fire Nation army pops out of the canyon later."

Aang didn't move. He didn't know much about relationships, but he was pretty sure he'd heard communication was important. Side note, the annoying rational voice reared its head again. You're not in a relationship. But even if they weren't...together...yet, they had come this far by working as a team. The whole group had. "No," Aang said defiantly. "We're talking about this. Why don't you trust him?"

She rolled her eyes, stirring the rice. "Why do you?"

"I already told you, I need a firebending master!"

She put down the spoon and grabbed his arm. "No, why do you trust him? Prince Zuko. The guy who's tried to kill you more times than you can count on both hands. Why him?"

"Who else do you suggest?"

"Jeong Jeong?"

"Katara…" Aang shook his head. "Okay, you wanna know why I trust him?" She nodded vigorously. "Because of Toph, and Sokka, and Appa. And because of everything he said."

"You mean everything he planned on saying?" Her nostrils flared.

"Katara, you think he planned on opening up with 'hello, Zuko here' and revealing that he sent Combustion Man after us? That's not the strategy of someone trying to sweet-talk someone else." And what is the best sweet-talking strategy, Avatar? he asked himself. Is it telling your true love that you'd rather kiss her than die?

"Aang, I'm just trying to look out for you!"

"Okay, you know what?" he said furiously. "I think that you need to come right out and say whatever you're hiding. You, Sokka, and I have had the same experience with Zuko and two of us have put that behind us. So why haven't you?" He'd regret his sharp tone later, but this was not the conversation he had wanted to have. They should be confessing their feelings right now! And maybe working out the kinks in their kissing technique to prevent as much teeth from being involved in the future.

"That's not true," she said softly.

"What's not true?"

"There's something you don't know, with Zuko and I."

If he hurt her, touched her… Aang thought. He was almost glad his seventh chakra was blocked.

"When we were under Ba Sing Se, in the crystal catacombs," Katara whispered, her eyes starting to brim again. "I thought he had changed. I...I told him about my mother. He told me he had lost his mother to the Fire Nation too."

"Wasn't his mother the Fire Lady?" Aang asked, confused.

"I don't know," Katara muttered. "The point is, I opened up to him and he betrayed me. He betrayed all of us, but it felt...personal."

Aang put a hand on her back, a new step for him. She almost always initiated physical contact, but that was not only because it was her nature to be caring, but because he was almost always the one who needed a hug. He would gladly do the same for her when she was hurting.

"Katara, I didn't know."

"Because I didn't tell you," she said, sounding almost embarrassed. "After we left Ba Sing Se, after you got hurt, I felt so stupid. I had trusted the guy who had spent the better part of a year trying to hunt us down and kill everyone I loved. I swore to myself I wouldn't let my guard down again."

He put his arm all the way around her and she leaned into him. "You shouldn't be embarrassed. Look, I trust Zuko, but there's nobody I trust more than you." She raised her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. Now this, Aang could get used to. For once, he was not looking up at her. Their faces were quite close, and honestly, he wouldn't mind trying this closeness again later when they had both rinsed out their mouths with fresh springwater, but he dared hope...would she make the first move this time?

No, she wouldn't. She broke their eye contact (a bummer) and put her head back on his shoulder (well, he supposed that would suffice). "Katara, I mean it. If you can't trust him, I'll tell him to get lost."

"I can't ask you to do that," she murmured.

"Sure you can," Aang plastered a smile to his face and she lifted her head from his shoulder to smirk at him. "I just said you could!"

"Aang," she chuckled. "I mean I can't ask you to kick your firebending teacher out of the group. I don't trust him, and I...made that clear to him. But there's nobody I trust more than you either."

Was it possible to go into the Avatar State out of pure jubilation? Sadly, the answer appeared to be 'no', but Aang felt that if any time was the moment, it would've been right then. And they hadn't even kissed. Somehow, this felt more meaningful.

"Just don't expect me to be nice to him," Katara said, reaching into another bag and popping a berry in her mouth. She offered one to Aang, and he accepted. But before he could take it from her hand, she threw it up in the air. Aang was about to airbend it into his mouth when Momo swooped in and intercepted it, zipping back to Appa's saddle with glee.

"Fair," Aang said charitably. Out of the corner of his eye, Aang saw the Zuko emerging from one of the temple hallways. So that solved the mystery of where he'd fall in their wake-up order. He rose with the sun. Zuko approached him and Katara with the body language of a peasant approaching two royals. I guess that's better than approaching us with fire blasts, Aang thought.

"Um, good morning," Zuko said, his voice even raspier than normal in the early morning.

"Morning, Sifu Hotman!" Aang said cheerfully.

"Morning, Katara," Zuko addressed the waterbender, who thus far hadn't looked at him.

"Good morning," she said coldly.

"Is there anything I can do to help with breakfast?" he asked after a long pause.

"No," she said, as if saying just that had been absolutely exhausting.

Zuko sat down next to Aang, keeping a safe distance from the block of ice formerly named Katara. "Excited to start your firebending training?" the prince asked, attempting to spark any sort of conversation that didn't involve yelling about trust.

"Of course, Sifu Hotman!"

"You like that nickname, huh?" Zuko groaned. "The term 'hotman' hasn't been cool since my uncle was a kid!"

"Man, we haven't even started training and I've already learned such an invaluable lesson!" Aang cracked.

He looked at Katara, saw the war play out on her face. Her brain did her best, but it couldn't stop a smile from gently lifting the right corner of her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Kataang! More trust! Man, their relationship is so pure. That's basically all the character analysis I have on this one. They trust each other. We saw it in "The Southern Raiders" and Katara's deep trust for Aang is why she caved on allowing Zuko into the group (with threats, of course).   
> Sorry I missed a couple days of uploading. Rest assured, we've still got a ways to go before I'm done with this fic.


	13. After "The Beach"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko struggles to open up to Mai about his inner conflict.

Three days after "The Beach"

Zuko jolted upright at the echoing sound of a knock on his marble doorframe. When he saw who his visitor was, though, the adrenaline sloughed off his body like water. He grinned the lazy grin he knew she loved and rose from his bed. "Hey, Mai."

"Hey yourself," the dark-haired girl replied. He embraced her, a little fiercer than usual. Since the two of them, Azula, and Ty Lee had gotten back from Ember Island, something had changed between the four. He could actually sustain a conversation with Ty Lee, for one. More importantly, he wasn't under the impression that any interaction with Azula could end in flames. But, best of all, he and Mai had grown even closer; the tiff they had suffered on Ember Island felt like it had happened when they were just children.

But, even though the relationships between the teens had defrosted a bit, and he was genuinely happy to be with Mai, he couldn't shake the feeling that had led to his outburst by their bonfire on the beach.

But none of that was relevant. Now or anytime in the future. He had chosen his path. He had claimed his destiny, regained his honor for himself. Just like Azula had said.

He kissed Mai, hard, burying his hands in the soft locks of hair behind her ears. She broke away briefly to smile at him and he groaned. "Where you going?" Zuko teased.

"Nowhere," Mai said, pecking him again. "What's got you so happy?"

"I'm never happy," Zuko said through a grin.

"Sure," she took his hand and they sat on the edge of his bed. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Zuko said. "As good as when you saw me yesterday, and the day before."

"I was just being nice, I didn't ask for your life story," Mai joked. They kissed again, just like on that cold night on the journey back from Ba Sing Se. "But seriously, you seem like you're in a really good mood. Normally, I'd find it nauseating, but with you, I guess I'm glad to see it." She ran her thumb along the back of his hand.

"What, I'm not allowed to be happy?" Zuko asked, keeping his tone light while registering a seed of irritation that took root in his mind.

"Of course you're allowed," Mai said. "But on the beach, you know, you said some…" she trailed off, and Zuko wondered what she meant to say. Hurtful? Heavy? Ridiculous?

Borderline treasonous?

"I've moved past it," he said shortly. "What do you want to do today?"

"Just talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Zuko…" she started. He stood up, roughly brushing her hand off of his.

"What? A few days ago all you wanted was for me to stop being angry!" Zuko threw his hands up in mockery. "Now you want me to get mad again?"

"I don't want you to be mad again, Zuko," Mai said, her tone exasperated. Zuko couldn't fathom why. As far as he was concerned, they were supposed to have a nice afternoon together, ordering the servants around or feeding the turtleducks or...other, less innocuous, activities. Why'd she have to get into the heavy stuff now? It didn't seem fair. Zuko himself had repressed all those feelings. She didn't get to yank them back up again. "I want you to be honest," she finished.

"I am honestly fine," Zuko said, in what he hoped was his best conclusive voice. "Can we go eat or something?"

Mai sighed. It was a real sigh, not one of her signature 'I hate the world' sighs. "Okay. You're right. Let's eat. I want my fruit tarts." She took his hand, and smiled graciously at her, all strange intrusiveness forgiven.

He supposed he shouldn't view it as intrusive. She was his girlfriend, after all. Weren't you supposed to talk to the ones you love about stuff that bothered you?

Nothing's bothering you, he reminded himself. You have everything you want. What happened on the beach...best to forget anything happened on the beach.

"You know you can talk to me, though, right?" Mai asked.

Zuko forced a laugh and looked at her. "Don't do that girlfriend stuff. I like you when you hate the world."

"It's exhausting hating everything all the time, you know."

"Well, you don't hate me."

Mai put her head on his shoulder and lifted it quickly as they walked, holding contact just long enough for him to catch a whiff of her hair. Fire lily, obviously, as was common with Fire Nation shampoo, but a hint of cherry too. Zuko thought the cherry fit her. It was subtle, understated, yet self-assuredly pleasant. 'Pleasant' wasn't a word that would normally accurately describe his girlfriend, but when they were together, she became visibly happier. A small smile crept onto Zuko's lips at the realization that he, the banished prince (no, redeemed prince, he corrected himself), could have that effect on someone.

"No, I don't hate you."

They walked into the dining hall and a servant immediately asked them what they'd like cooked for them. Zuko was still getting used to having complete freedom over what he ate. On his ship, and on the run in the Earth Kingdom, it was either a set menu or gratefully wolfing down whatever lukewarm slop was placed before him. Now, it wasn't really a mealtime, but Zuko still ordered a komodo chicken breast, earning him an odd glance from Mai. She, as promised, opted for her fruit tarts, a more reasonable afternoon snack. They sat down, and another servant brought them ginseng tea. Mai accepted, but Zuko held up his hand and the servant retreated into the shadows smoothly.

"Don't you like tea?" Mai asked.

"I just don't feel like it, okay?" Zuko said, a little rougher than he intended. "Sorry."

"So you don't feel like tea. Okay." Mai was glaring daggers at him. He would've rather she thrown some real daggers at him. He was certain she had no fewer than twenty neatly stowed in various folds of her voluminous dress. He'd deserve it. Their afternoon had started so nice, but he'd gotten irritable when she'd done her job as a concerned girlfriend. He'd yelled at her on Ember Island for 'not feeling anything', but now when she was trying to care for him, he was pushing her out. Zuko shook his head, physically admonishing himself. He reached across the table to take her hand.

"I am sorry, Mai," he said gently. He steadied himself, realizing he now had little recourse but to open up. "Tea reminds me of my uncle."

"Drinking tea reminds you of him?" she raised an eyebrow.

"He couldn't go a day without it. And you know in Ba Sing Se he opened up his own tea shop. We had...a lot of important conversations over tea."

"Zuko, I know him being in prison is difficult for you."

Zuko wanted to tell her everything, he really did. Every detail of how his uncle had nearly managed to free him (no, he reminded himself, tear him away) from the Fire Nation. But Mai was too close with Azula. Zuko would have to watch his words carefully.

"It is difficult ... to understand why he would betray me," Zuko said, hoping he sounded conclusive, remorseless. Hoping he sounded like the loyal prince he was supposed to be. No, he thought. The loyal prince I want to be. The loyal prince I am.

"Come on, Zuko, it's me," Mai coaxed. "I'm not going to rat you out to Azula if you admit you kind of miss the man who took care of you for three years."

"I don't miss him. He's an old fool and he can waste away in jail for all I care," Zuko blustered.

"Have a sip of my tea, then," Mai challenged.

"What?"

"If you really don't care about him, drinking this tea shouldn't be a problem." She offered the cup to him as if preparing a toast. He snatched it out of her hand and took an emphatic swig, forgetting that tea was, well, hot. When he was finished panting, trying to cool off his tongue, he stared Mai down. She was trying and failing to keep a smile off her face.

"Did I pass your test?"

"Sure you did, Zuko."

"This ginseng is too sweet, anyways," Zuko mumbled.

"What?"

Zuko rolled his eyes, silently cursing his own mouth for letting a bit of tea-related sentimentality escape. "Ginseng tea is supposed to be a little bitter. I was always surprised Uncle liked ginseng so much. You'd think...you know, because he's…" Zuko didn't want to finish the sentence. Didn't trust himself to without opening himself up to thoughts he didn't dare have in his father's palace.

"A sweet guy?" Mai supplied.

"No!" Zuko grumbled insistently.

"Zuko, it's okay. He's sweet. Obnoxiously so. I never liked it, but you needed it. You were in exile for three years, it couldn't have been easy."

You weren't 'in exile', an Iroh-sounding voice nudged Zuko's mind. Your father exiled you. Scarred you. Hurt you.

"None of that matters now." Zuko stared Mai down, hoping this could finally be the end of this wretched, difficult conversation. "He betrayed me."

Zuko wished he fully believed what he was saying.

"If you say so," Mai conceded. "Doesn't change what he was to you for three years."

"And what was that?" Zuko snarled.

"A father," Mai said softly.

Zuko whirled his head around, suddenly terrified Azula would suddenly appear over his shoulder. The servants had retreated into the kitchens. He and Mai were alone in the dining hall, which suddenly felt like a cold, dark cavern, rather than the regal yet intimate space a dozen architects had tirelessly crafted for the royal family years and years ago. "Don't say that!" Zuko whispered frantically.

"Zuko, you know how painful it was for me when I saw what your father did to you?" Mai whispered back. Zuko's neck drooped, like the pain his father caused was his own shame to carry. He supposed it was. His scar was a permanent mark of that shame. Deserved or not, it was there, a brand, a bullseye for any belittling and demeaning from anyone who thought themselves eligible to criticize the crown prince.

"You shouldn't talk about the Fire Lord like that," Zuko warned.

"The Fire Lord? He's your father, Zuko! When you were a kid, did you think your father would burn half your face off?"

"What do you want from me, Mai?" Zuko shouted. "You're starting to sound like my uncle. Don't you want me to be back in the Fire Nation? Neither of you can just accept that this is what I want. This is my destiny."

Is it what you want? Ursa's voice chimed in, as gentle and persistent as a flowing creek. Or is it your destiny? Zuko wished all the voices would leave him alone. Ozai, Azula, Iroh, Ursa, and now Mai. Some voices were more welcome than others, but the one he most wanted to hear (coincidentally, the one that got interrupted most by the cacophony of others') was his own.

Mai looked down at her shoes, tapping the stone floor under the table. "I'm sorry. I'm just … I'm glad you're home. I don't hate you." She smiled wanly at him. He met her gaze, but didn't return the grin.

"In fact, I love you, Zuko," Mai admitted. She walked around the table and sat down next to him, sliding one of her hands into his and softly tracing the unscarred side of his face with her other hand. His eyes widened, even his scarred eye straining to accommodate the surprise (and, if he was being honest, elation) he felt.

Zuko leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away, her expression stony. She looked...well, she looked like she always did when she wasn't spending time with Zuko. Dingy and gray, as Ty Lee so eloquently put it. "From now on, just talk to me so I won't have to say something so embarrassing again."

She kissed his cheek briefly, so perfunctory it could nearly be considered unpleasant, and walked out of the dining hall, leaving Zuko in a familiar and hellish place-alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hotmen!  
> It seems clear that the turning point in Zuko's redemptive arc is "The Avatar and the Firelord". Which, for me, means that in the time between "The Beach" and that episode he would be in maximum identity crisis, in the worst possible place to have such a crisis-his father's palace. Which means that, while struggling within himself, he thinks he has to present a 'loyal prince' exterior to everyone, including Mai. She herself was interesting to write. In "The Boiling Rock", she berates Zuko for betraying his country, but in this chapter, she seems to diss Ozai. I view her, certainly, as a loyal citizen, but she doesn't have her head in the sand. As shown in "The Boiling Rock", she loves Zuko above all else. If she saw him in pain, she'd be able to get to the bottom of it and empathize.


	14. During "The Siege of the North"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and Yue talk about Sokka, the Water Tribes, and the crazy adventures the Gaang has had so far.

During “The Siege of the North”

Katara never really liked when Aang meditated. Or, she liked that he did it. She knew it centered him, tied him to his long-gone culture, and was an integral part of who he was. So she always respected it, even though it could be irksome. Aang would just essentially disappear for an hour or so, unreachable. And if she did want to talk to him, he’d try and fail to hold in frustration. But meditation...meditation she had gotten used to. 

Spirit world journeys, on the other hand, those were jarring. Normally, Aang was an army in the guise of a skinny twelve-year-old. When he was in the Spirit World, he was vulnerable on two planes of existence. At least, this time, Katara had company. Aang and Sokka hadn’t left her to her own worries while they fended off untold monsters. Princess Yue stood a few feet to her side, enraptured by Aang’s utter stillness. Truth be told, Katara couldn’t believe she herself had gotten used to all of Aang’s “Avatar stuff”, as Sokka referred to it, so quickly. She supposed she too should be mesmerized by Aang’s casual transcendence to another world, but it seemed like a weekly occurrence by this point. Spirit World journeys, terrifying and awe-inspiring displays of glowing-arrow power, fighting a volcano and winning--all in a day’s work for their trio. 

Small talk had always come easy to Katara, but nothing about her and Yue’s situation (and, really, the situation of the Northern Water Tribe and, by association, the world) called for small talk. That said, it had been a heavy day. Katara deserved to make someone feel flustered. 

“So, Yue,” Katara drawled. “Has my brother made you want to jump into one of the canals yet?”

Yue blanched, her skin almost matching the color of her hair. She plastered a more regal look on her face before answering, with maximum aloofness and dignity. “Why would I jump into a canal? Sokka’s company is enjoyable.”

“Enjoyable?” Katara raised an eyebrow. 

“Believe it or not, yes,” Yue said, eyes twinkling. “Besides, he’s the one who jumped into a canal.”

“What?” Katara guffawed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he didn’t tell me.”

“He fell in after he asked me out. It wasn’t one of his finer moments,” Yue said amicably. 

“He doesn’t have many fine moments,” Katara replied. They both laughed. 

“He did say something that’s been bothering me, though,” Yue said, looking down at the soft grass, so out of place in the polar wastes that the tribe called home. 

Katara fumed. “I swear, if he said something gross or sexist or...I’ll water-smack him back to the Southern tribe!”

“No, no, Katara, don’t worry,” Yue laughed. “But it was about the Southern tribe. He said you... don’t have palaces down there.” 

Katara couldn’t resist a scornful chuckle. “That’s a little bit of an understatement, Yue.”

“Yeah...that’s what he made it sound like, too,” Yue said, very quiet.

Katara didn’t know where Yue was going with this. “But...it’s nice! The tribe is very close, like one big family, and we have the best penguin-sledding in the world!”

“Oh!” Yue perked up slightly. “Penguin-sledding? What’s that? Do you go often?”

“Yes, it’s pretty much what it’s sound like. But no, in fact I hadn’t been in years until Aang showed up and immediately asked me to go with him.”

“That’s unfortunate. The way Sokka described it, it doesn’t seem like you all have a lot of time for...fun.”

Katara shook her head. “No. We’re mostly concerned with finding enough food to eat and fuel to keep our fires going.” She looked around at the Spirit Oasis. The tranquil space could’ve fit three of the Southern Tribe in it with room for the black-and-white koi to roam freely. Although those koi really don’t seem to do much of anything except circle each other, Katara thought idly. 

“Katara, I’m really sorry you have to live like that,” Yue said emphatically. “I know there’s a war going on, and the Northern tribe is across the world from you in the South, but that’s no excuse. The North and the South are kin. I feel like we’ve abandoned you.”

“Yue, it’s not your fault. We’ve lived for a long time without anything from the North. We’ve learned to fend for ourselves.”

Yue looked down again. Katara put her thumb and forefinger to her temples. “That came out wrong,” she said, reaching out to touch the princess’s shoulder. “I mean you shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“Maybe not me personally,” Yue murmured. “But the Northern elders, even my father, should be ashamed of how we’ve...frankly, we’ve forgotten about you. You and Sokka literally had to travel as far as you can travel just for us to notice our sister tribe again.” Yue took Katara’s gloved hand and squeezed it firmly, a warm but ironclad gesture of commitment. “When we get through this battle, you have my word, I’ll get my father to send help to the South.”

“Thank you, Yue,” Katara said, her voice unexpectedly coming out tremulous. She supposed she hadn’t realized how bad of shape the Southern tribe was truly in until she and Sokka had left it. Now, looking back, picturing the weary band of a few dozen children, young mothers, and grandmothers, Katara couldn’t believe they had managed to survive for even those few years without the men. They’d been lucky that Zuko’s brief incursion to find Aang had been the only Fire Nation raid to land on their icy shore since their entire militia had gone off to fight in the war. “That means more than you know.”

Yue smiled sadly. “Well that’s the problem, isn’t it? I don’t know. Most of us here have never seen the Southern Tribe, but me? I’ve never even left home.”

“Come with us when we leave,” Katara offered, without hesitation. Yue was sweet as a moon peach, she wouldn’t be a burden to the group. And it’d be nice to have another girl around, especially one with a princess’s manners. “Aang will need to learn earthbending after he finishes training with Master Pakku. You can come with us and see the Earth Kingdom.”

“I wish I could,” Yue said softly. 

“Why can’t you?”

Yue said nothing, just pulled at the cerulean disc hanging from her neck as if it were a chain. Katara wanted to slap herself. Wearing her own mother’s necklace for so long as just a memento, she’d forgotten what the real meaning of her tribe’s necklaces were. Yue was to be married. It scared Katara a little. Yue was two years older than she, but they looked about the same age. Katara imagined herself saddled with an impending wedding, the prospect of having kids. It’d be even worse for Yue. She had a royal lineage to continue. 

“I’m sorry,” Katara consoled her. “I don’t suppose the guy is any good?”

“It’s just duty,” Yue replied, with as much conviction as she could muster. “Everyone has theirs.” Katara took her non-answer regarding the quality of her betrothed as, well, a solid answer. 

“It doesn’t have to be yours,” Katara pressed. “My Gran-Gran was supposed to marry Master Pakku sixty years ago, but she ran away. She started a new life in the South. Now, she’s the most respected person in the tribe.”

“That was brave of her,” Yue said. “But she wasn’t a princess. My tribe needs me.”

“You aren’t marrying your tribe!” Katara said indignantly. 

Yue cocked an eyebrow at her. “That’s exactly what Sokka said...Katara, if this is your way of looking out for your brother…”

“No!” Katara said frantically. “I just mean--” she struggled to find the words. “Don’t you deserve to be happy?”

Yue was silent, her closed eyes quivering with the effort of holding back tears. Katara had the eerie feeling that her new friend had been in a very similar position at the end of a very similar conversation with Sokka earlier in the day. 

“You don’t understand,” Yue finally said. 

“Yeah, I guess I don’t,” Katara retorted, then regretted her own insensitivity. Yue was clearly struggling. None of it was her fault. “I’m sorry, Yue.”

“It’s okay,” the princess said. Then, after a beat, “Tell me about the craziest thing you’ve done since you left the Southern tribe.”

Katara considered. “Well, where do I start? It seems like, as a rule, everywhere we go we’re either dealing with weird villagers, crazy spirits, or fighting off the Fire Nation.”

Yue laughed dryly. “Well, glad to hear we haven’t broken your rule, then.” 

Katara giggled, a sound that was certainly out of place, and yet oddly refreshing for the situation. “I wish you had.” She thought back, leafing through her memories of the past couple months like they were a book. “Well, I voluntarily got myself thrown into prison.”

Yue managed not to freak out, which Katara respected. Sokka and Aang could learn from that kind of restraint. “That...that would qualify as crazy,” Yue finally said. 

“Managed to free a bunch of earthbenders, though,” Katara said casually. Yue was a composed young woman. Katara assumed that she was impressed, even if she wasn’t showing it, so she couldn’t resist showing off her newfound bravery a bit. “Well, they freed themselves. I just did the talking to get them there.”

“Okay,” Yue said, seeming to determine that this little anecdote was an acceptable level of crazy. “What else?”

“Hmmm...we visited a town where all the people relied on a fortuneteller to tell them what to do.”

“Sokka couldn’t have liked that,” Yue chuckled.

“Oh, he didn’t,” Katara said wryly. She could still hear Sokka’s voice cracking as he shouted at every sap he could wrangle into a ‘conversation’ about Aunt Wu. 

“Did you get a reading?” Yue asked.

“I...I got a few. Too many readings, really. I think the fortuneteller was glad to see me leave after we saved them from the volcano.”

“Volcano?” Yue started. “You know what? Never mind the volcano. What was your reading?”

“She said I’d marry a powerful bender, first of all.”

Yue bobbed her head at the still form of Aang. “Is the Avatar powerful enough for you?”

“She said this person would be tall!” Katara protested. No, a more truthful part of her brain nagged her. You hoped he would be tall, and handsome, and all those other things that people like Sokka think all girls obsess over. 

Yue smiled, bemused, still alternating her gaze between Aang and Katara. So subtle, Katara thought. “I’m sure he’ll get there,” Yue teased. Her face turned puzzled, realizing Aang hadn’t moved in several minutes. His back was ramrod-straight. Katara always found it ironic that, to be consumed by a monk’s trance, he had to have a soldier’s posture. “Why is he sitting like that?”

“He’s meditating,” Katara explained. “Trying to cross over into the Spirit World.” Aang shifted, such a small motion that an untrained eye wouldn’t have seen it. Katara cursed herself. She’d broken his trance. “It takes all his concentration.”

“Is there any way we can help?” Yue asked. 

Katara almost said it before Aang did. “How ‘bout some quiet?” he snapped. “Come on guys, I can hear every word you’re saying!”

Katara gulped and Yue beamed. I hope, I really hope, Katara thought, that you don’t really mean every word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Yue is super fun, because she makes a huge impact on the show with very little screen time to go off of. With that little screen time, the showrunners made it clear that she is a young woman who holds her duties in high importance, even to the point of consuming her own happiness. I hope I did that justice. 
> 
> Katara and Yue would've been an awesome friendship if we got to see it play out more. They're both teenage girls who have drastically different viewpoints and stations in what is, ostensibly, the same culture, so their dynamic would've been very interesting if Yue had survived long enough for them to explore it more. 
> 
> I'll be back on the 9th with another chapter, thanks so much for reading, and if you enjoyed, please leave kudos and/or a review!


	15. After "The Ember Island Players"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang gets some tough love from Toph after that awful play.

After “The Ember Island Players”

Aang couldn’t sleep. 

Okay, that was an understatement. When someone says that they can’t sleep, it usually means that they’re having trouble sleeping. Their mind feels like it’s still moving at a trot or canter when they’d prefer it to be standing still. On the rare occasion that Aang had trouble sleeping, a minute or two of deep breathing was usually just the remedy. 

Aang found that a minute of deep breathing was the remedy for most things, honestly. 

Aang had been breathing for an hour, trying to meditate while lying down, wrapped in silk sheets that had once belonged to the Fire Lord. Objectively speaking (or, as close to objective as one could be about a physical sensation), the bed was comfortable. In reality, Aang couldn’t shake the image of a different version of himself wrapped in a very different silk sheet on that cursed stage a few hours ago. 

The monks, in the early years of Aang’s meditation training, had worked hard to dispel the notion that meditation required a completely blank mind. Ironically (for airbenders at least), they had compared the mind-freeing practice to an ostrich-horse chained with a long leash. You could allow your mind to move, so long as you noted when it strayed too far, and always brought it back home. 

Tonight, it felt like there was no home for Aang’s mind to return to. His ostrich horse was galloping at full tilt, north to south across a pitted, burning glade. At one end of the glade, stomach-churning memories of him planting his lips on Katara’s outside the theatre, just after she said she was confused. It had been the wrong thing to do even if he found her logic surrounding their potential relationship flawed. He knew that now. He knew that. He would’ve apologized, but he didn’t want to make things even more awkward. He’d probably come to regret not apologizing too. But hopefully she was sound asleep in her room by now, having dreams that were mercifully free of him. 

At the other end was that image of the actor--no, Aang’s mind grumbled, actress--version of him swaddled in fake flame. He couldn’t stop imagining the silk writhing into real fire, the actress’s play-dead, dolled up face morphing into his own. He saw his own agony, his own failure, his own defeat. It seemed inevitable. And he saw Ozai, lurid, laughing at the pitiful boy Avatar who thought he could save the world. 

So, yeah, Aang was having a bit of trouble sleeping. He kicked the sheets off, almost gasping with relief as a surprisingly cool nighttime breeze tickled his damp skin. He crept out of his room and down the stairs, grabbing his staff and shuffling outside to the stone courtyard. 

“Twinkletoes?” a high voice called out from across the yard. 

“Hi, Toph,” Aang grumbled. Better Toph than Katara, he supposed, but he really would’ve rather been alone. 

“Can’t sleep?” she asked. 

“No,” Aang said. “I’m thinking about the play.”

Toph marched over, the magnitude of her eye-roll seeming to send tremors through the floor. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a seated position next to her on the ivy-laced stairs. “Honestly, all you dunderheads...it’s just a play! A Fire Nation play! What’d you expect?”

“Easy for you to say!” Aang shot back. “Somehow you got to be a buff guy kicking firebender butt. How do you explain that?”

Toph shrugged. “Guess my awesomeness is too radiant to cover up.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Aang rolled his eyes. Azula had mocked Toph with the same gesture underneath Caldera City on the day of the invasion, but Aang wondered if the earthbender could actually detect the movement of his eyeballs. Either way, she got the sarcasm. 

“But seriously, lighten up. The play’s not real. Unless Sokka was right, and the effects really were that good.” She chuckled and pointed to her eyes. “Beats me.”

“It was real enough,” Aang muttered. 

“How?” Toph asked incredulously. “I mean, I can’t see everything, but I’m pretty sure Katara and Zuko aren’t having a secret thing.”

Aang winced. Personally, he wouldn’t be surprised. After how he had acted towards her tonight, Katara had a right to seek refuge with the firebender. Or anyone other than Aang, for that matter. Stupid, he mentally smacked his forehead again. 

“For almost a year I’ve been imagining the fight against the Fire Lord. To see myself...fail like that…” Aang trailed off. Toph punched him in the arm, lightly enough not to hurt, which was refreshing, but firmly enough to get her exasperation across. 

“Aang,” Toph started. Was she getting serious? He hadn’t been keeping track, but she definitely called him ‘Twinkletoes’ more often than she called him by his real name, and she only called him by his real name on those rare occasions when she had something serious to say. “That actress was not you. Get that through your windy skull.”

“She might as well be,” Aang lamented. “She’s done about as much for the world over the past hundred years as I have.”

Toph put her hands in her hair, tearing at the fine black strands. “Ugh, Aang, now you’re just being stupid. You saved the Northern Water Tribe, you took down the Dai Li, you’ve come the closest anybody’s ever come to defeating the Fire Nation. Shut up about not doing anything!”

“Sorry,” Aang felt compelled to say. 

“Don’t apologize!” Aang wasn’t wearing a shirt, so Toph grabbed his ear. “You’re fighting the Fire Lord soon, and you’re going to kick his butt into next year.”

Aang scoffed. “Hey, where’s all this encouragement during training?”

Toph let go of his ear roughly and flicked his shoulder. Aang rubbed it, even though it didn’t really hurt. With Toph, it was a force of habit. “Eh, you’ve done well enough, I’ll stick by my teaching methods, thank you very much.”

“I’ve done well?” Aang asked incredulously.

“Well, you’re no Blind Bandit, but you’re an above average earthbender. In my book, when you’ve got the other three elements too, that’s good enough.”

“Last I remember, I beat the Blind Bandit,” Aang cracked. Toph glared at him, but actually restrained from further physical punishment. Aang was shocked. “But it’s not good enough! I either win, or…”

“Don’t say it,” Toph said, her voice becoming uncharacteristically soft. “It won’t happen, so don’t say it.”

A silence fell over them. Toph was right. There was no other option but to win. Allowing his mind to play host to thoughts of a fiery death for himself, and therefore the world, was useless. 

“Okay,” Aang finally said. “I won’t say it.”

“Don’t think it either,” she continued. “What’s the number one thing I’ve taught you?”

“In order to bend rock, you’ve got to be like a rock,” Aang intoned, the words pouring out of his mouth like sand through an hourglass, as they had dozens of times before on hot, sweaty, dirty afternoons pulverizing boulders with a punch of the fist or flick of the wrist. 

“You can’t be thinking about all those different angles and clever tricks. You’ve worked too hard for there to be any other outcome here. In order to win, you’ve got to think like you’re going to win.” She gently nudged his foot with hers. “Rock-like!” she shouted, for old times sake. 

“Shh!” Aang chuckled. “You’ll wake everyone else!”

“They can deal,” Toph said. “Although Katara might be mad at me for staying up this late. She’s such a mom.” Aang had heard Toph call Katara motherly many times before. But, since the encounter with Combustion Man in that town with the big Ozai fountain, all the menace had left her voice when she commented on Katara’s nurturing instincts. Aang was glad to see the two girls’ respect for each other growing. Then again, he really would’ve rathered Toph not bring up Katara right now. It sent his mind’s ostrich-horse galloping again, all the way back to the far side of the glade, when it had just returned to center. 

“I screwed up bad, Toph,” Aang groaned. “Katara’s gonna be mad at me forever.”

“Forever?” Toph laughed. “Whatever it is, I’m sure she’ll forgive you by sunrise.”

“I kissed her at the play,” Aang confessed. 

Toph blanched. “Oh. Well, that’s not great.”

“It wasn’t the first time! We kissed at the invasion, too,” Aang blustered, regretting saying anything to Toph of all people about this. She would lord this over his head until he died, and then she’d tease the next Avatar for it too. 

“Okay, I don’t know much about these kinds of things, and, really, I don’t want to,” Toph started. “But did she want you to kiss her?”

“No,” Aang said. 

“Then why on earth did you do it, Twinkletoes?”

“She said she was confused! Look, I know it was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but I thought maybe it would...help her confusion.”

Toph was laughing. Chortling. What she found funny, Aang didn’t know. “Never mind what I said about not knowing much about all that mushy stuff, because I guess I know way more than you.”

Toph clapped him on the back and Aang put his head in his hands. “Aaaah! It was that stupid play! Her and Zuko--and then she said--”

“She didn’t say anything in the play,” Toph reminded him. “A playwright wrote it, and an actress said it.”

“Okay,” Aang conceded, though he couldn’t help but think the difference was minimal considering Katara’s evident apathy for him. “Actress Katara said she loved me like a brother. But I don’t love her like a sister. I love her like--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Toph waved a hand. “You don’t have to say it, I’ve felt your heartbeat around her. Seriously, you should see a doctor, I don’t think hearts are supposed to go that fast.”

“She’s the closest thing I have to a doctor and I don’t think I can see her about that,” Aang said morosely. 

“Twinkletoes, you kissed her tonight, I think the shyness phase might be over.”

“Whatever,” Aang glared at nothing in particular. Not Toph, she was actually being considerate for once. And certainly not Katara. Himself, then. He was certainly deserving of a thousand glares. “She was just saying she was confused to be nice. She doesn’t like me. Not in the way I like her.”

“I’ve felt her heartbeat too, you know,” Toph said. “I can’t speak for her about all the emotional mumbo-jumbo, but physically? Aang, when you’re around her, let’s just say it’s not the same as when Sokka’s around.”

Aang perked up, the ostrich-horse breaking into a new gallop, not a restless, frenzied gallop, but a happy one. “So...it’s not brotherly love?”

Toph shook her head. “Okay,” Aang said, trying to project trepidation. “What about when Zuko walks in a room?”

Toph groaned. “Really? You wanna know? I’m not a fortuneteller!”

“You started it!” Aang protested.

“Fine,” Toph grumbled. “Well it used to be outright hatred, now it’s the same reaction you have when you see me.”

“Fear?” Aang quipped. 

“Friendship,” Toph said, unabashedly kind. “Now go back to bed. You need to sleep all these dumb thoughts away.”

Aang smiled and stood up. If it were Katara consoling him, she would’ve offered a hug, and he would’ve gratefully accepted. Toph offered no such babying, and tonight, maybe her brand of love was what he needed. He filed up to his room and gratefully sank into his silk sheets, no longer fearing that they’d turn into flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual post-Ember Island Players fic is Aang and Katara. I couldn't resist writing about the aftermath of the play, but I wanted to shake it up just a little bit, especially since Aang definitely doesn't have the emotional maturity (at least, in the romance arena) to talk to Katara after making that dumbass move a few hours prior. Toph is just the gal to give Aang the tough love he needs regarding Katara and, perhaps more importantly, regarding his fears about his upcoming fight with Ozai.
> 
> I'll be back in two days with chapter 16 :) Hope y'all enjoyed this one, it was very fun to write. All of these are fun to write, because writing is fun and reading your reactions is fun. Point is, thank you.


	16. After "The Waterbending Scroll"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iroh teaches Zuko the nature of pai sho.

Two days after “The Waterbending Scroll”

Even Zuko’s boots sounded angry. Iroh could hear his nephew tromping down the hall well before the heavy metal door to the bridge was flung open so fiercely he thought it would rip free of its hinges. Iroh looked up from his pai sho game, smiling softly, attemtping, as futile as it usually was, to project calm onto the banished prince. 

“Uncle, we were supposed to start training a half hour ago!” Zuko thundered. The other players bunched around the pai sho board looked apprehensively between Iroh and Zuko, their rear ends seeming to sink further into the ratty pillows they used as game chairs. Over the years, the crewmen had developed a sixth sense for when Prince Zuko was in a foul mood. Iroh would’ve given them more credit, but, really, it didn’t take much expertise to determine when his nephew was angry. The secret? He was virtually always angry. The task fell to Iroh to compel him to use his emotions in a more productive way. 

So far, he hadn’t had much luck. But he had to keep trying. It was what uncles were supposed to do. 

Yes. Uncles. 

“Did my attendant not instruct you to meet me at the bridge?” Iroh asked quizzically.

“No!” Zuko whined. He looked around, surveying the pai sho players. Some of them were still wearing their armor despite the decidedly relaxed ambiance. Or, as relaxed as one could be on a dark, red-lit, metal warship. “Are we practicing close-quarters combat today, Uncle?” 

Iroh’s tablemates looked at him worriedly, and he shot them all reassuring looks to assuage their worries that they had been summoned for firebending target practice as well as a pai sho beatdown. “In a way, my nephew. In a way.” Iroh leaned over, stretching out his arm as far as it would go to grab another pillow without getting up. “Sit,” he told Zuko, offering him the pillow.

“I don’t want to sit, I want to train!” Zuko roared. His fists started to smoke. Voluntarily or involuntarily, Iroh didn’t know. And Iroh didn’t know which option was better. Calm, he reminded himself. I must remain calm. Then he will remain calm. 

“This is training, Prince Zuko. There will be time for firebending later. This is far more important.”

Zuko lowered his one eyebrow even further, but obliged, harumphing his way over to sit next to Iroh. “Thank you,” Iroh said graciously. “I promise this will not be a waste of your time.”

A waste of time, Iroh thought wryly. A waste of time? When the mission is unachievable, is there such thing as a waste of time?

Iroh had thought capturing the Avatar would be impossible in and of itself, but, by some miracle of the spirits, the Avatar had survived a hundred years in the form and vitality of a twelve-year-old boy. Capturing him had so far proven too much for their small crew to handle, but even if they did achieve that feat, that wasn’t the real mission. The real mission was for Zuko to earn back the love of his father. And Iroh knew that to be impossible. 

He had been a father. He had loved and lost. He knew Ozai to be as much of a father as Iroh was a waterbender. Sure, Iroh had studied the waterbenders. He had used their teachings to his advantage. But he could not stop the waves from pounding against the hull of their ship. Ozai could pretend to love, pretend to raise and nurture, but on the day of Zuko’s Agni Kai, Iroh knew exactly what would happen as soon as he saw Ozai on the other side of that platform. 

The role of father had not fallen on Iroh’s shoulders. The role had been vacant from the moment his nephew was born. Iroh had been granted the part by virtue of being the only one auditioning.

Iroh lifted a tile, twirling it between his fingers so Zuko could get a good look at its insignia. The White Lotus. As if it would be anything else, he scoffed to himself.

“That the tile you had us waste all that time trying to find?” Zuko asked, his grudge evidently still healthy even after being separated by days from that unsavory encounter with the pirates. 

Iroh nodded. “Of course, there are as many strategies in pai sho as there were clans in the era of Zoryu, but the White Lotus tile is overlooked in most of them...except mine.” He placed the tile gently but confidently on the board, in the very center of his array of other pieces. Lieutenant Jee and a couple of the other competitors, the ones who had been learning the fastest, groaned. Iroh would have victory in exactly six moves. The other two players blinked rather dumbly, unaware quite yet of how badly they’d been snookered. 

“Did you just win, Uncle?” Zuko asked. 

“Hush, Prince Zuko, you must not interfere with the flow of the game! The other players must be allowed to effect their strategies without outside knowledge!” Iroh chided. It was too late. The two lesser-skilled crewmen finally saw their situation for what it was. Iroh chuckled. “Oh, well. Shall we play again, my friends? Truly, it is becoming more and more of a challenge to achieve victory each game.” 

The other players smiled and scooped up their pieces, clearing the board. Iroh, as the winner of the previous game, moved first, placing his lotus tile in the same position as it was before. This time, there was no sense in hiding his strategy. If they hadn’t caught on by now, maybe they weren’t improving as much as he thought they were. 

“I only asked if you had won to see if we could train!” Zuko whispered angrily. So he did have enough respect not to raise his voice during their game. Iroh took this as a small victory, even if he were to go on to lose the game. Hah, he thought. If I were to lose. “In firebending! I don’t need pai sho to capture the Avatar!” Zuko hissed

“That is where you are mistaken, my nephew,” Iroh said seriously. “Everyone needs pai sho in their life. But you...you especially could learn something from this beautiful game. Do you know who the greatest pai sho master in history is?”

Lieutenant Jee slipped a sly grin to the helmsman sitting next to him. Iroh ignored the unspoken mockery and awaited Zuko’s answer. “You, I assume,” Zuko guessed. “You play constantly, and I’ve never seen you lose.” Alas, everyone had assumed Iroh was talking about himself, forgetting one of pai sho’s most basic tenets: humility. Even when the game is going well, never let arrogance and complacency prevent you from executing the final series of blows. 

“Incorrect,” Iroh said. Zuko’s eyebrow quirked and the other players simply looked shocked. Iroh was flattered, really, he was. But it was sad that the other men hadn’t played enough pai sho to know that Iroh, while a master, was not the be all and end all in the game. It had existed and flourished long before him and it would continue to do so long after him. The saga of the Dragon of the West was but a pamphlet compared to the epochs of pai sho history. “The greatest pai sho player of all time is the Avatar.”

“That little kid?” Zuko scoffed. “How would you know? Did you have time for quick game while we were supposed to have him in chains?”

“No, not the little airbender boy,” Iroh shook his head.

“Not him? Uncle, he’s the Avatar!”

“Not the airbender,” Iroh repeated. “A past life of his. Each Avatar is not only blessed with the ability to bend all four elements, but with the skills and even the memories of his or her past lives.”

“I know. And that’s why we should really be practicing firebending right now!” Zuko placed a hand roughly on Iroh’s wrist, gripping the shirtsleeve slightly. Suddenly, Iroh’s mind was transported ten years into the past; Lu Ten had barged into a meeting with War Minister Qin and two other generals in Iroh’s home office, tugging as hard as his little hands could pull on Iroh’s shirtsleeve. The boy had wanted to play soldier, and Iroh had chuckled and said that he was already busy playing soldier. The other two generals had laughed along, and War Minister Qin had pushed a figurine denoting the Rough Rhinos onto the little dot that symbolized an Earth Kingdom mining town. Iroh had forgotten the village’s name. He supposed it didn’t matter now. All of its citizens had been conscripted or executed. 

Iroh ignored Zuko’s petition for firebending practice. “Kuruk, the Water Tribe Avatar two incarnations before Roku, was said to be the greatest grandmaster in recorded history, the best since the game was played by the spirits themselves. Do you know why, Zuko?”

“No idea.” Zuko rolled his eyes. “But I’m surprised a grandmaster came from the Water Tribes. I guess they don’t spend all their time skinning polar leopards.”

“I confess, I do not know much about Water Tribe pai sho. However, each nation developed the game differently. If I were to journey to the North Pole and ask for a match, I’m sure they would have to teach me the rules...as if I were a toddler, learning not to chew on the pieces!” Iroh guffawed. A couple of the helmsmen joined in to be nice, but Iroh was perfectly content being the only one who laughed at his jokes. The others didn’t have to humor him. 

“The nations’ styles of pai sho, ironically, are all quite different from the nations themselves,” Iroh continued. “In the streets of Ba Sing Se, pai sho is a fast-paced game of chance. The steadfast nation of substance and endurance, reducing the game to something flighty and unpredictable. On the contrary, the airbenders, who relished their free spirits, apparently had a more rigid and cumbersome set of rules for pai sho than anyone else.”

“So we play it right in the Fire Nation, then, Uncle?” Zuko asked. The steel had come out of is voice, and Iroh dared to hope that the boy might be genuinely interested in what he had to teach. 

“Now, I didn’t say the other nations were wrong,” Iroh tutted. “Just different. The Fire Nation, in the same vein, has developed pai sho into a game opposite our nature. In war and in life, we move quickly, with passion and drive. In pai sho, we are careful and methodical.” Iroh looked around at his competitors. “Or, some of us are, anyway,” he laughed again. 

“Methodical,” Zuko mocked. “In this case that just seems like another word for slow.”

“You will learn to appreciate it, nephew,” Iroh declared. “As part of your training, I will teach you to play pai sho.”

“What? Why?” Zuko sputtered. 

“The Avatar masters every element, and therefore is a citizen of every nation. He knows the dualities, the contradictions, in each one. This is why Avatar Kuruk was a grandmaster. Just as he bent every element, knew its nature and power, he learned each style of pai sho, embraced the differences between the styles. It brought a measure of balance to his life, which was otherwise filled with chaos and regret.”

“I’m not the Avatar!” Zuko protested, gesticulating emphatically. “I can bend one element. I’m loyal to one nation. I don’t need the ‘dualities’.”

“If you wish to capture the Avatar, and if you wish to achieve balance within yourself,” Iroh said, not giving ground. They had reached a phase of the conversation that might best be done in private, but Iroh couldn’t just whisk Zuko out of the room now. And besides, Zuko would find it more awkward to refuse his uncle’s offer with witnesses than without. “You will learn to play pai sho. Just twice a week. You will master the game, just as the Avatar masters the elements.”

“Can I sign up for the training too, General?” Lieutenant Jee interjected. 

“Quiet!” Zuko barked. 

“Another time, Jee,” Iroh said more gently. “Am I understood, Prince Zuko?”

Zuko stood up and bowed curtly. “Yes, Uncle. Just tell me when our first match is,” he said, gruff as gruff can be. Iroh smiled and listened to his nephew stomp back to his room. And now, the Dragon of the West could continue laying waste to his poor, sweet underlings around him at the pai sho board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I wanted to write a chapter in which Iroh teaches Zuko pai sho. Since the rules of pai sho aren't developed in canon, and I didn't feel like I could simply make up rules convincingly, the idea changed into this abstract analysis of the game. Most of the pai sho lore is canon, and some of it is my own ideas and extrapolations. Kuruk was the greatest pai sho player of all time, confirmed in the Kyoshi novels (also a ton of other Kuruk lore that I won't spoil, but is pretty game-changing for his reputation). And, it's not the whole Earth Kingdom, but in TLOK, Bolin says that pai sho is a fast-paced game of chance in Republic City. 
> 
> This was an extremely fun chapter to write, so I hope you enjoyed. If you did, please kudos and/or review! I'll be back in two days with chapter 17. 
> 
> (also, thanks for 2000 views. holy moly :D )


	17. After "Lake Laogai"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gaang, Smellerbee, and Longshot hold a lakeside memorial for Jet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full honesty, this doesn't technically qualify as a 'missing moment' because there isn't a time gap between "Lake Laogai" and "The Earth King" where this could've happened, but this definitely should've happened. I'm allowing myself this one cheat, okay? :)
> 
> (and it's a bit of a double-whammy continuity error bc Sokka says Jet's death was "unclear" in "The Ember Island Players" but I'm choosing to interpret that as a meta fourth-wall-break joke, and not an actual lack of knowledge about Jet's status on Sokka's part)
> 
> With all those disclaimers out of the way, enjoy the chapter!

Immediately after “Lake Laogai”

“Wait!”

A voice managed to reach Appa, as if the sound had jumped into the air as high as it could, reached out a hand to the bison’s flank, and Sokka had grabbed it. 

“Wait!” it called again, slightly louder, slightly more desperate. Sokka peered over the edge of Appa’s side and saw two lean forms, one of which was waving its arms frantically. The other partook in no such theatrics, though his wide-brimmed straw hat and bow were unmistakable. Smellerbee and Longshot. 

“Aang, turn back,” Sokka called. The Avatar whipped his head around curiously. 

“Shouldn’t we be going away from the freaky underground lair?” Aang asked, quite fairly. 

“Yeah, but it’s Smellerbee and Longshot. They’re on the surface. Let’s give ‘em a lift.”

Aang nodded and tugged Appa’s reins. The bison lowed and gracefully turned around, careening into a joyful nosedive. Clearly, the bison was ecstatic to be back with his family, and he was flying like it. They landed quickly, and Sokka was the first to disembark, rushing over to the Freedom Fighters. It was startling to see their numbers reduced to two. Their forest fortress, before Sokka had realized the shadier side of Jet’s gang, had been so full of unabashed optimism, a pride in the simple nobility of guerilla warfare. Now their leader was gone; their ranks dispersed. As far as Sokka knew, the two skinny and exhausted warriors standing hunched in front of him were all that was left of their force. 

“Is he…” Sokka started, knowing he would trail off. It didn’t seem possible that a man with as much fire as Jet could be extinguished. And yet, there Smellerbee and Longshot were. They wouldn’t have left their leader. So, even before he got a real answer, there was no doubt in Sokka’s mind that Jet was…

Well, there was no use avoiding the word. Jet was dead. 

Smellerbee nodded. 

“We won’t ever forget what he did for us,” Katara said, walking over to put a hand on Smellerbee’s shoulder pauldron. Smellerbee’s eyes started to brim over, and she grimaced, silently chastisting herself for crying in front of people she, really, barely knew. 

“We should take a minute and remember him,” Aang suggested. 

“No, it’s okay,” Smellerbee said, wiping her nose. “You guys have to go, wherever you’re going. I shouldn’t have waved you back down here, the Dai Li will be after--”

“Aang’s right,” Sokka interrupted. “We can’t just leave like nothing happened.” Katara looked at him, mildly surprised. It wasn’t like he couldn’t be sensitive, he just didn’t make a habit of it. That was her department. But Sokka put himself in Smellerbee’s and Longshot’s shoes. They were looking out for the Boomerang Squad (the others may not have appreciated the catchiness of this team name, but they couldn’t stop him from thinking it), but Sokka wasn’t going to let them grieve alone. When he’d lost his mother, his tribe had been there for him, collectively almost (almost) filling the void left by her death. Smellerbee and Longshot didn’t have such a tribe anymore. 

Sokka didn’t know how exactly to lead a memorial, though. He’d obviously been to a Water Tribe funeral, but that felt wrong here, even if he knew how to conduct the official rites. He kind of wished Katara would take over, but he’d already essentially volunteered himself as a pseudo-minister here. He could speak from the heart. Sokka normally appreciated a good strategy, but strategy and planning had failed them already today. Ad-libbing it was. 

“To be honest, when we ran into Jet back in Ba Sing Se, I didn’t know what to think,” Sokka said, trying to infuse his voice with dignity, leadership befitting the self-proclaimed leader of the group. He almost chuckled, realizing the first time he had declared himself a leader was right before he had led them to Jet. And Jet had chided him for relying on instinct. “But now I know Jet was a good man.” Public speaking was way harder than Sokka thought. This was going terribly. So far he had only managed to backhandedly insult Jet, implying (correctly, to be fair) that he had thought Jet to be a bad dude until today. Luckily, Smellerbee and Longshot didn’t seem to have the energy to be angry. Sokka continued, praying his mind would come up with something even remotely acceptable to remember a dead man by. 

“He taught me a lot about never giving up, about fighting for what you believe in, about doing whatever you can, whenever you can,” Sokka said, his voice strengthening as he spoke. Longshot was nodding, and Aang tapped his staff on the ground, as if agreeing with Sokka’s points.

“I wish we had been on the same side for longer,” Sokka finished, hoping it came across as genuinely wistful, not insulting. Judging from everyone’s expressions, somehow he had succeeded. “Goodbye, Jet. And thank you for everything you did.”

He stepped back, not really realizing he had stepped forward. As he fell in line in between Toph and Smellerbee, Toph punched him lightly in the arm. He smiled softly, even thought he knew she probably couldn’t see it. 

Aang stepped forward and faced out onto Lake Laogai. Its surface was a brilliant blue, reflecting the sunny sky perfectly, belying the gravity of the moment. They could’ve been just six kids, a lemur, and a bison having a nice day in the countryside. Sokka wished they had that luxury. 

“Jet reunited this family,” Aang said quietly. On cue, Appa lumbered forward and nuzzled Aang gently with his head. Of course, a gentle nuzzle from Appa’s head could easily knock one off one’s feet, but Aang was prepared. “Jet said he had changed, and he proved himself honorable down there in those tunnels. No matter how we fought in the past, I’ll always be grateful for that.” He tapped his staff on the ground again and looked up towards the few clouds that dotted the sky. “Thank you, Jet. You deserved a lot more than the life you got.” Aang turned around, walked over to Smellerbee and Longshot, and pulled them into a powerful hug. They stiffened at first, but quickly relaxed and leaned into the young Avatar’s shoulders. He released them and fell back in line. Toph took his place at the area that had become a de facto lectern. 

“All I know about the guy is what happened today,” she said, her voice surprisingly thick. “But judging from how brave he was down there, I’m really sorry I didn’t know him for longer.” At this, Smellerbee burst into tears again. Sokka could see why. Jet had that charm, the ability to win people over instantly. He had pulled one over on Katara and Aang back in that forest, but now, with Jet a changed man and his charisma still intact, it was a testament to him as a fighter and a person that tough-as-nails Toph warmed up to him so quickly. 

And now it appeared to be Katara’s turn. Her eyes were already misty, and Sokka, as he often felt when he looked at her, felt as if he was looking at his own eyes. Sokka couldn’t feel any oncoming waterworks, but if the tears wanted to come, he told himself he would let them. The moment was appropriate. 

Katara, like Aang, took a long moment to stare out at the lake before speaking. They had been the two most deceived by Jet in the past, and if Sokka thought coming up with his own excuse for a eulogy was difficult, he could only imagine those two’s struggle.

Finally, Katara turned around, the first one to face the group while speaking. “When I first met Jet, he was everything I thought a leader should be. Passionate and smart...and he cared about the people he led.”

Smellerbee nodded emphatically, and Katara smiled at her and Longshot. “When we were staying in your hideout, we didn’t just want to help fight the Fire Nation. We wanted to help Jet. I would’ve done anything to help his fight for freedom.” She frowned. Sokka knew she was struggling to avoid the elephant-rat in the room. She had believed in Jet, and he had ruthlessly abused her trust. 

“And now he gave up everything for us. Whatever happened back then, this, today, is how I’ll remember him. Yet again, leading those he cared about to a better tomorrow.”

Katara stepped back and linked arms with Aang, who threaded his arm through Toph’s, who linked with Sokka, who pulled Smellerbee close to him. Longshot nocked the last arrow remaining in his quiver, drew his bowstring as far back as it would go, and loosed the arrow far, far away over the lake. It splashed down peacefully a few seconds later. “Rest easy, Jet,” he said simply.

A minute passed in respectful silence. Sokka watched the tiny ripples in the water, stirred up by the wind, that glided across the lake’s surface. Laogai was eerily calm. The more time Sokka spent there, the more he thought it was the perfect hideout for a group as insidious as the Dai Li. Its calm surface mirrored the city of Ba Sing Se as a whole, but something sinister lurked beneath the placid waters. It reminded Sokka of his reason for coming to this wretched city in the first place. They had to get an audience with the Earth King, tell him everything about the war and the Dai Li conspiracy and the eclipse. 

They had to mess up this glassy lake. 

“Hey,” Sokka said, turning to the two Freedom Fighters. “You guys should join us. We could really use your help showing the Earth King everything that’s going on. We’re going to invade the Fire Nation during a solar eclipse this summer, and we need his forces if we want to stand a chance.”

Smellerbee unlinked her arm from Sokka’s and stepped away. “Thanks. But no thanks,” she said, rather unexpectedly. Sokka had been expecting her and Longshot to jump at the chance to continue sticking it to the Fire Nation. And this time, teaming up with the Avatar, they’d actually be able to do some damage. 

“Are you sure?” Katara asked. “You’d be safe with us--”

“Really, Sugar Queen?” Toph interrupted, scoffing. “Look, I think you two should join us, but safety is not what we can promise.”

Katara smiled wanly. “I guess you’re right, Toph. But still. We want you guys to come aboard. We want to continue Jet’s mission, together.”

“And hey, Appa already knows you,” Aang added. The bison hopped over and licked Longshot. The corner of the archer’s lip quirked upward, so briefly it might not have happened.

“We’re flattered, guys, really,” Smellerbee smiled earnestly at Sokka and his little family. “But, honestly, I’ve done enough fighting for a little while.”

“I understand,” Sokka said. The other three in his group looked at him. “You guys find a nice village to lay low in for a while. You’re right, you’ve done enough fighting. We’ll do you proud on the day of the eclipse.”

“Thanks, Sokka,” Smellerbee said. “For everything.” Sokka nodded. “Now go! Don’t you guys have a king to talk to?”

“That we do,” Sokka replied, climbing up onto Appa’s bare back. 

Katara rushed in to give Smellerbee and Longshot a final hug. “We’ll see each other again, I promise.”

“No doubt,” Smellerbee said, returning the hug warmly. 

The rest of the Boomerang Squad hopped onto Appa. Aang flicked the reins, and the bison took off, leaving the two fighters behind on the shore. 

“I’m surprised, Sokka,” Katara said once they were a few hundred feet in the air. “I thought you, out of all of us, would be the most likely to resent them for backing down from the fight.”

Sokka shook his head. “They’re not backing down. They’re soldiers. They’ve spend enough time at war. It’s time for them to go home.”

Katara nodded and smiled, and Sokka watched Lake Laogai grow smaller and smaller, becoming just an innocent blue dot on the quilted green landscape as Appa flew back to Ba Sing Se with purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed seeing Jet redeemed by the time of his death. His inclusion in season 2 was a really nice surprise, and his death was unexpectedly quite sad for me. He deserves to be remembered by the Gaang like this.


	18. During "The Runaway"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara helps Toph write a letter to her parents.

During “The Runaway”

Katara sat close enough to Toph to be friendly, but not close enough to invade the earthbending prodigy’s personal space. Appa’s saddle felt even cozier than normal that night. The scorching heat of the day had dulled, leaving the air feeling like a soft blanket. After the literally and metaphorically explosive events of a the past few days, Katara wasn’t going to say no to a more pleasant warmth. 

She had scrounged up a piece of parchment, a frayed brush, and all the remaining ink in their pack. Sokka had used up most of the ink, writing letters to all their friends and allies in preparation for the invasion, but there was more than enough left to write down whatever Toph had to say to her parents. And, if Toph ended up having more to get off her chest than Katara anticipated, she could add some water to the inkwell and pray that didn’t dilute the substance beyond readability. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Toph,” Katara said softly. 

“I don’t know really know what to say,” Toph grumbled. “I probably shouldn’t have asked you to do this, I don’t have anything to say to those lily-livers.”

Katara sighed. “If you didn’t have anything to say, you wouldn’t have asked me to write something for you in the first place.” She slung an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Now, what do you feel?”

Toph smirked, and Katara cringed. Had that been too motherly? Could it be that only mothers were allowed to be concerned with feelings? She’d never thought of herself as the ‘mother’ of the group, she just...did the things that helped everyone. If that was what mothers did, then so be it. 

Yeah, that really is what mothers do, Katara thought sadly. Until that awful day, she’d grown up as carefree as one possibly could during a war, thanks to her mother. Her mother, who had tucked her in every night so carefully and thoroughly, Katara didn’t think she could escape the warmth of her bed if she wanted to. Her mother, who had marched in to declare a cease-fire in snowball fights between her and Sokka, only to scoop up two snowballs in her own hands and pelt her kids before they could react. 

Her mother, who had died for her. 

Mothering this group of immensely powerful, occasionally airheaded group of kids was the least Katara could do to pay the life debt she owed to her mother. 

“I feel like no matter what I say, they’re not going to care,” Toph snorted. “They saw what I could do with their own eyes, and they still sent that meathead and that other meathead after me to lock me in a cage and bring me home.”

“But you still wanted to write to them,” Katara reminded her. 

“Yeah, we all want stupid things, Snoozles over there wanted a messenger hawk!” Toph motioned vaguely in the direction of...Hawky. Sokka had not only bought the hawk without anyone’s approval, he hadn’t even bothered to give it a decent name.

“That hawk is how we’re gonna send this letter,” Katara breezed forward. “Now, come on. You don’t want to say anything now, fine. What did you want to say?”

“Well, I wanted to say I was sorry for hurting them and making them scared when I left…” Toph said gingerly. “But also that they need to get their heads out of their--”

“Toph!” Katara chided. 

“What? You asked!” Toph protested. “Fine! They need to accept me for who I am, and that includes the earthbending greatness.” Toph snapped her head towards Katara. “Why aren’t you writing this down?”

“Well, I’m not just going to write what you say!” Katara blustered. “There’s only so much room on the page, we’ve gotta come up with an actual letter, not just a word explosion.”

“Right,” Toph said. “Sorry. Guess I’m not that aware of how writing works.”

“That’s okay,” Katara said quickly. “Keep going.”

“I wouldn’t have run away if they had just let me be me. I want them to know that this is their fault,” Toph said bitterly. 

“You...you want me to write that?” Katara asked cautiously. 

“You don’t think I should?” Toph asked, and Katara noted the lack of steel in her voice. A day ago, if Katara had tried to temper her anger, Toph would’ve just gotten angrier. Now, having been locked up in a wooden cell by a seven-foot-tall assassin who could blow stuff up with his mind, well...that kind of experience tends to bring people closer together. 

“I understand that’s how you feel,” Katara said, probing her mind for the right string of words that would allow Toph to continue expressing herself while preserving any hope of this letter effecting change in her parents’ minds. “But put yourself in your parents’ shoes. I know they hurt you, but you’ve got to make it as easy as possible for them to see this new you.”

“It’s not the new me, Katara! It’s been me since I was six years old, but they’ve blinded themselves to it!” Toph shouted, finally brushing Katara’s arm off her shoulder. Frankly, Katara was surprised it had taken her this long to break the embrace. “I can’t put myself in their shoes. I’d never treat my kid like they were nothing.”

Katara looked down at Appa’s saddle. It desperately needed a wash, but that wasn’t relevant (laundry duty isn’t the kind of mothering we need right now, she chided herself). “I’m sorry, Toph. Sorry for how you had to live, sorry for judging what you feel now. I’m just…”

“Sorry?” Toph supplied. 

Katara chuckled. “Yeah, you get it.”

“It’s okay. Look, if you tell anyone I said this, I’m gonna throw a boulder at you, but I’m really happy you look out for me, and that you wanna help me with this letter. It...it means a lot,” Toph finished, exhaling deeply, as if every grateful word was agony. 

“Let’s finish it off, then,” Katara said, knowing that the best favor she could do Toph was to not make a big, mushy deal of her show of gratitude. 

“‘Dear Mom and Dad’,” Toph started, her voice clear and collected. Katara took this as an official cue to start writing. “Wait, should I just say ‘Mom and Dad’? I don’t really think they deserve a ‘dear’.”

“Too late,” Katara said brusquely. “I already wrote the ‘dear’. It’s proper manners anyway.”

“I hate manners,” Toph muttered. “Okay. ‘Dear Mom and Dad’,” she started again. “‘I’m sorry I ran away. I can’t tell you where I am now, but I’m safe and very well protected.’” Toph smiled at Katara, doing an uncannily good job of meeting her eyeline despite being unable to see on the saddle. 

“‘Believe it or not, I didn’t want to leave. But I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I couldn’t live the rest of my life sheltered. I hope one day you’ll come to understand. The world needed to know my name,’” Toph declared. 

“Is that it?” Katara asked.

“Yeah, I think that’s it.”

“How do you want to sign it?”

“Hmmm…” Toph considered. “‘Love, your daughter. The greatest earthbender in the world.’”

Katara couldn’t help but smile. “That’s perfect, Toph. Sounds just like you.”

“I’d hope so. They need a big dose of me to make up for all the fake stuff I’ve been feeding them all these years,” Toph said morosely. 

“Let’s send this thing off to Gaoling, then,” Katara said, and Toph nodded.

“Guess we need to borrow Snoozles’ mangy bird.”

“Should we ask him?”

“There’s no way he’ll allow it,” Toph said flatly. “Easier to ask forgiveness than permission.” 

“Fine, you’ll do the asking for forgiveness, then.” Katara poked Toph in the side, eliciting a laugh. “Psst! Hawky! Over here!” Katara whisper-shouted. Sokka was cleaning up for the night in the lagoon just down the ridge. They’d be able to stealthily employ the hawk without its master noticing, so long as it kept the squawking to a minimum. Luckily, it flew over noiselessly and landed on her outstretched wrist. Its talons dug in, hard enough to be mildly painful but not deep enough to draw blood. It was a good thing that these birds were so joyless and thoroughly unentertaining. It made it easy to send them far, far away. 

Katara rolled up the letter and tied it to Hawky’s leg, then paused, unsure of how to get it flying in the right direction. “Did Sokka ever exactly figure out how to use this thing?” Katara asked.

“Beats me,” Toph shrugged. “I try not to pay attention to whatever his latest crazy idea is.”

Katara dug through Sokka’s pack, which she was currently using as a back pillow, until she found one of his new fancy maps. She unrolled the scroll, searching the major cities and towns in the Earth Kingdom until she found Gaoling. “I don’t think Hawky can just find your parents,” Katara said. 

“What?” Toph shrieked. Katara shushed her, whirling her head for any sign of Sokka. “Okay, well what are we supposed to do now, then?” Toph asked, quieter. 

“Look at--um, well, nevermind,” Katara caught herself a little too late, and Toph smiled ruefully. “These hawks can only fly to specific towns with rookeries in them. Probably Fire Nation colonies. From there…” Katara traced her finger along a red line extending from one of the Fire colonies in the Earth Kingdom to another town under Earth Kingdom control. The colony was marked with a rudimentary drawing of a hawk head. “From there, the letter gets mailed the old fashion way—ostrich-horse, I guess.”

“So where do we send it to?”

“Looks like the closest colony to Gaoling is a place called Yu Dao,” Katara said, triumphantly placing her finger down on the map by the destination. 

“Works for me,” Toph chirped. 

“Hawky...Yu Dao?” Katara said, almost like a prayer for something to trigger in the bird’s tiny brain. But, apparently, it did trigger something. Hawky launched himself gracefully into the air, twisting into a few barrel rolls to demonstrate his enthusiasm at finally being given a job. Huh, Katara thought. I guess they aren’t joyless. 

“You know that bird’s never coming back, right?” Toph asked wryly. 

“Yeah, I guess it probably won’t be able to find us again,” Katara said, a little guilty. She hadn’t asked Sokka for his blessing to use his new pet, and now the bird was probably gone forever. 

“We can always scam some more, get Sokka a stack of coins to buy a new bird with,” Toph suggested. 

“Toph, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m never scamming with you again.”

Toph threw her head back and laughed her high, breathy laugh, and Katara joined in, more subdued but no less tickled. Just then, Sokka walked over the ridge, carrying his sheathed sword casually across his shoulders, as had become his habit.

Toph and Katara looked at each other, trying to compose themselves, but when Sokka approached them, they burst into laughter again. Sokka met Katara’s eyes, raising an eyebrow curiously. Katara couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed like this in front of him. He clearly found it peculiar too. His eyes darted around their campground, looking for something amiss. 

“Hey, where’d Hawky go?”

Katara hopped off the saddle and patted him on the shoulder, then started heading down to the lagoon to clean herself up. As she was walking away, she heard Toph tell Sokka vaguely, yet accurately, “Hawky has been enlisted for an important mission, one from which he may not return.”

The sounds of Sokka whining carried all the way over the hills until Katara reached the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most 'missing' out of all the missing moments I've written, if you ask me. Why they didn't show this in the series is lost on me. I guess they didn't want Toph to get all in her feelings at the end of the episode, it could've weighed the story down. Oh well, that's why we write fanfiction, am I right? I always enjoyed seeing Katara and Toph bond, whether it's in this episode or in their vignette in "Tales of Ba Sing Se". They're such different people, but what's important is that they grow to respect each other with time. It's admirable. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! As usual, if you enjoyed, please leave kudos and/or a review! I so appreciate the feedback I've gotten so far, it really keeps my writing spirit going.
> 
> You may have noticed I've set the number of chapters to 20. Yes, this means we're nearing the end of this fic. Twenty is a nice, round number, and I have other things I'd like to explore writing, which will come out sooner or later. So two more chapters to go, I promise they'll be good ones. Warning: incoming fluff :)


	19. During "Sozin's Comet, Part 4"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gaang unwinds and Katara heals Zuko after all the battles have come to an end.

During “Sozin’s Comet, Part 4”

“Katara, really, you should get some sleep,” Zuko rasped, his chest fluttering beneath her hands with the effort of speaking. “I feel fine, the others need healing too.”

Don’t remind me, Katara thought. She hadn’t gotten to spend much time with the others once they landed their battered airship awkwardly at the Fire Nation royal palace. They’d quickly taken the first servants’ quarters available and collapsed, not even bothering to strip off their ashy clothes. But Katara had stayed up through most of the night, feverishly trying to siphon the twisted up energy away from her friend’s wounds. Still, she’d noticed Sokka limping, only able to walk even to that extent thanks to Suki physically propping him up. And Aang...well, he was shirtless, but judging from the (minor, yes, but still frightening) burns all over his body, she guessed his monk robes had gone up in smoke. 

Despite all that, her instincts, honed over months of being the only thing resembling a doctor her little family had access too, told her that Zuko was in the most danger. “Lie still,” she cautioned him, for what felt like the thousandth time. “This only works if you relax.”

“As if I could go anywhere,” he cracked. 

“Don’t start making jokes now.” Katara would’ve punched him in the arm, but given his state, she decided to give him a pass. “We all like you serious and stoic.”

“It’s a new me.” He tried to shrug, then groaned in pain. 

“I said, hold still!”

“Sorry, sorry. But seriously, either get some sleep or go heal someone else. That’s the Fire Lord’s order.”

Katara chuckled. “Oh, don’t even try that. I’m not Fire Nation, and you haven’t even been crowned yet. Technically, the Fire Nation is in a state of anarchy right now.”

“Marvelous,” Zuko winced. 

Katara sighed and lifted her hands from his sternum, carelessly tossing the bloody water encasing her hands to the side. “Fine. If you want to lie here in pain the rest of the night, be my guest.” She grabbed a bell off his nightstand and placed it right by his calloused hand. “If the pain gets worse, or if you feel like you can’t breathe, ring this like your life depends on it. It probably does.” 

Zuko nodded. “Thank you, Katara.”

Katara frowned. “You thanking me? You saved my life, Zuko, this is the least I can do.”

“Let’s call it even, then. You guys helped me officially get my honor back.”

“You did that yourself,” a tired voice called from behind Katara. She whirled, calling her meager remaining water supply back to her hands. But she let the water drop to the floor again when she saw Sokka leaning against the doorframe, one foot lifted above the ground in a valiant effort to ease his pain. Katara rushed over and nearly wiped him off his one good foot in a ferocious hug. 

“Sokka…” she whispered, his name all the words she could summon. Katara closed her eyes and breathed him in, the scent of smoke and sweat still lingering on his dark blue armor. 

“We did it, sis,” he replied softly, his voice unusually thick. Even her manly-man brother was caught up in the moment. Everything they had fought for, nearly died for—there was nothing standing in the way of achieving that vision now. 

Katara opened her eyes and nearly started crying as she saw Aang, Toph, and Suki strolling up just behind her brother. She begrudgingly released Sokka and sprinted (yes, sprinted, she acknowledged to herself, no emotions to hide anymore) over to the others, yanking Toph into a surprisingly willing embrace first. “Glad to see you, Sweetness,” Toph said.

“Don’t get all mushy on me now, Toph,” Katara said, kissing the top of the earthbender’s head. That turned out to be a step too far. Toph abruptly pushed free of Katara’s arms, but she was snickering slightly. 

Suki practically jumped into Katara’s arms, and both girls felt each other’s tears drip softly onto their shoulders. “What do we do now?” Suki asked. 

“I think we get at least one night just to relax,” Toph interjected, before Katara could launch into an (admittedly preachy) speech about rebuilding a hopeful world. 

“Honestly, sounds good to me,” Katara laughed, gently letting Suki go. And now, Aang. 

No awkwardness there. Nope, none at all. 

The Avatar met her eyes at first, smiling shyly, but he broke his gaze quickly, looking down at the ground in something resembling shame. “Katara, I’m really sorry--”

She interrupted him with what felt like the fiercest hug she’d given anyone in her life. Aang released an audible “oof” and unhesitatingly hugged her back. “That can wait,” Katara whispered into his ear. Her lips made contact, which she wasn’t intending, but didn’t exactly hate the feeling of. “You saved the world. I am so, so proud of you.” She released her grip on his back, but kept a hand on his shoulder as the four of them walked back into Zuko’s room. Sokka had stolen her seat by his bed, and she took no pity on her brother simply because of his leg. Medical duty called.

“Okay, if we’re all gonna be in here, then I need to sit there,” Katara said, marching up to her brother and flicking his shoulder lightly. 

“Hey! I need to rest my leg!”

“I need to keep working on that,” Katara motioned to the still-bloody starburst on Zuko’s chest. 

“I have a name,” Zuko quipped. 

“I was talking about your--” Katara started. “Ugh! Sokka, move!”

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Sokka whined. Katara gazed around the very-well furnished Prince’s quarters. There was a comfortable desk chair, a trunk at the foot of the bed, two easy chairs and an ottoman, and, if necessary, the unused second nightstand. 

“Look around the room,” Katara suggested, rolling her eyes. Sokka harumphed and gingerly got up, draping an arm around Katara’s shoulder. She led him over to the desk chair and slowly set him down.

“Now that,” Sokka remarked. “Is a good chair. Did you miss this while you were gone, Zuko?”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking about the furniture,” Zuko said, trying to sit up against the headboard. Katara rushed over and put an end to any of those ambitions, lowering him gently back down to a fully reclined position. “More about how we were planning to take down my father, my sister, and a whole bloodthirsty army.”

“Strange,” Sokka sniffed the air dramatically. “I would’ve missed this. Guess you don’t appreciate the things you’re used to.”

“Sure,” Zuko laughed dryly, accepting the shot of pain this evidently brought to his wound. 

“Alright, anyone have clean water?” Katara asked. Suki offered her canteen, and Katara gratefully opened the top, drawing out a clear stream of water and encasing her hands once again. She resumed Zuko’s healing session, but it felt a lot less arduous now that her friends were near. 

“So tell us how you took down the princess!” Toph said, far too excitedly. “Must have been some fight.” In a way, Toph was lucky. She couldn’t see Zuko’s chest, the damage his own sister had thoughtlessly inflicted. 

“Zuko was incredible,” Katara said, shamelessly gushing because Zuko deserved to hear it. “Challenged Azula to an Agni Kai, and he was winning! And then…”

“I did what I had to do,” Zuko said, insistently reassuring. “She shot lightning at Katara. She broke the rules because she knew she was losing. I jumped in the way.”

“You...you did that for her?” Aang asked, floored. 

“I’d hug you, but you don’t seem like the hug type and you have an open wound, so we’ll have to save it for another time,” Sokka said kindly. 

“I would’ve done that for any of you,” Zuko looked around at his friends. Katara pulled one hand free of the water to squeeze his shoulder, hopefully gently enough not to cause any more pain. “Seriously, thank you all,” he said, his voice starting to break. “You accepted me into your group, and you helped me be a positive force in the world, for once.”

“Well, you’re making the ‘joining the group’ process sound a lot easier than it actually was for you,” Toph said wryly. Katara blushed, remembering how she had unflinchingly threatened to do the unthinkable to him if he so much as harmed a nonexistent hair on Aang’s head. 

“And we just did what we do,” Suki said. “You coming to the good side will be remembered as the turning point in this war for the rest of history.”

“I hope so,” Zuko smiled. “But we’ve got a lot more history to make together.”

“So how did you win, then?” Sokka asked, clearly still enraptured by the tale of the epic Agni Kai. 

“I had to finish the job,” Katara said bluntly.

“You mean...finish the job?” Suki asked, voice oozing with trepidation. Katara caught Aang’s worried eyes. The Fire Lord, Yon Rha, Azula...Aang didn’t want anyone to die by his or anyone he knew’s hands. At times over the last couple weeks, she had found his ideology impractical. Now, she thought it was noble. There had been enough death in this war. If it could end without any more, ushering in an era of peace with a relatively peaceful conclusion, it was for the best. 

“No, I chained her up,” Katara said. 

“How?” Aang asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“A complex waterbending move I’ll have to show you at another time, pupil,” Katara answered, donning the ‘sifu’ voiced she had developed over the past several months of training. She blushed again, thinking of how close she had been with Azula when she was floating around in the ice, wrapping the cold chains around the princess’s legs and wrists. Katara would wager it would be a lot more fun to be that close to Aang than Azula. 

“Neat,” Aang smiled. 

“Well, what about you?” Katara asked. “You beat the big bad himself!”

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to--” Aang started, but Sokka (who else, Katara thought) cut him off. 

“It was the coolest thing you’ve ever done!” Sokka jumped out of his chair and immediately groaned in pain, having been so excited that he forgot about his broken leg. “Katara, it was amazing! He glowed it up and was like…” Sokka started flapping his arms and opening and closing his fists. “...Airbending slice! Earthbending smash! Firebending whoosh! Waterbending...splash,” he finished weakly. 

“Okay, first off, why does waterbending get the weakest sound effect?” Katara protested. “Second,” she turned to Aang. “You went into the Avatar state?”

“It was lucky I did,” Aang said. “If I hadn’t...I don’t know what would have happened.” 

Aang’s ‘I don’t know’ wasn’t fooling her one bit. He knew what would’ve happened if he hadn’t managed to find his way into the Avatar State. Katara didn’t want to think about it. She wanted to wrap him in a hug and not let go until the sun came up, and maybe not even then. 

“Well, I’m glad you did,” she finally said, too simply.

Aang caught the subtext. Or, he smiled, so Katara hoped he understood all the emotion behind Katara’s...gladness. “Thanks, Katara.”

“Now tell her how you took his bending away,” Toph elbowed Aang.

“You kind of just did,” Suki chimed in. Toph laughed and sat down in one of the easy chairs, not reclining so she could keep her feet on the ground. 

“Okay, yeah,” Aang said, almost seeming embarassed with the sheer magnitude of his feats. “A giant lion-turtle showed me how to take away people’s bending, so that’s what I did. I spared Ozai’s life, but he won’t be hurting anyone else ever again.”

“Aang, that’s amazing,” Katara breathed. She looked at the young Avatar standing in front of her, tired, humble as he’d always been, and yet rightfully proud of all he had done for the world since coming out of that iceberg. His shoulders were loose and high, no longer buckled by the specter of the Fire Lord. 

“Yep, pretty spectacular, and we got a bird’s eye view,” Sokka said proudly. 

“Some of us,” Toph grumbled. Sokka ignored the guilt-trip.

“And with that, I’m gonna go back to bed. Taking out a whole fleet is exhausting.”

“Goodnight,” Zuko and Katara said at the same time. Sokka limped out of the room, but suddenly jerked his head back toward the group as he made his way through the doorframe. 

“Nobody wants to ask about how we destroyed the whole airship fleet?” Sokka whined. 

“I’m sure we’ll hear about it in the morning,” Katara assured him.

“And every day for the rest of our lives,” Toph added. “I can hardly wait.”

“Okay, fine,” Sokka conceded. “Goodnight.” Suki stood up too and bid the group goodnight, following Sokka out of the room to ‘help him walk’. 

“Guess that’s my cue, too,” Toph sprang to her feet, showing no signs of the exhaustion that would make one want to sleep after a long battle. 

“What happened to staying up late, Miss No-Rules?” Katara jabbed. 

“Hey, are you finally getting in on the nickname game, Sweetness?” Toph laughed heartily. “There’s room for improvement, but not a bad first attempt. And sue me, I’m tired. It happens to the best of us.”

“You are indeed the best of us, Toph,” Aang said cheerfully.

“I know, right? Anyways, g’night.” She strolled out the door and down the hall. 

Katara surveyed Zuko’s chest. Since the others had come into his room, Katara’s energy had been replenished, and it showed in the progress she’d made healing him. Zuko’s sternum was still red, but the menace, the anger had left the wound. Cautiously, she removed her hands. Zuko tensed in anticipation, but as the last strings of water left the area, he relaxed. 

“How’s the pain?” Katara asked.

“I’ll live.”

“I know you’re gonna live, Zuko, I asked how the pain was,” Katara replied. Aang chuckled behind her. 

“You can go,” Zuko said, reading her mind. “I’ll be able to sleep. And yes, I will ring this bell if I need you again. Thank you, Katara.”

“Thank you, Zuko.” She squeezed his hand and finally walked out of Zuko’s room after what she knew had only been hours. It had felt like weeks. Moments later, she heard soft, distinctly Twinkly-toed footsteps behind her. 

“Katara, can we talk?” Aang asked. Katara turned around and smiled at him, tired, but ready to have this conversation. The conversation. It had been several months coming and now...now they weren’t in the middle of a war. 

“Yeah, Aang,” she said softly. “Let’s talk.”

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making y'all wait longer than promised. College started up and I wanted to give my full attention to that. Hope I didn't disappoint after the extra day or two off. I promised fluff, and I intend to deliver. This is the first and last chapter I wrote with the whole Gaang, I didn't always intend to save it for during Sozin's Comet, but the moment felt right. I wanted to see them all unwind. We have that beautiful tea shop scene of course, but I love the idea of none of them being able to sleep, so they crash Zuko's room and give an exhausted Katara the burst of energy she needs to help Zuko.
> 
> Chapter 20 will be a direct continuation of Chapter 19. Kataang fluff, as you might imagine, so buckle your seatbelts. Forewarning: they will not kiss. The teashop kiss must remain their first real completely two-sided, not-fueled-by-impending-cave-death kiss. I have spoken. But there can still be fluff :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and if you enjoyed, please kudos and/or review. One more chapter to go. Thanks for an amazing journey so far, readers.


	20. FINALE: During "Sozin's Comet, Part 4"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (continuation of last chapter) The war is over. A wounded Zuko is sleeping peacefully. Aang and Katara have a much-needed conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, darling readers. The last missing moment. Enjoy.

During “Sozin’s Comet, Part 4”

Aang’s new room was just as small as his old room at the Southern Air Temple. It had been used as servant’s quarters before Azula, apparently, had banished almost the entire staff. But, despite the room being about half the size of a closet in the Earth King’s palace, it was comfortable. His sheets were adequately soft, pillows firm but forgiving, just as he liked them. And best of all, the sheets weren’t silk. No more reminders of himself wreathed in fake fire on that Ember Island stage. 

Then again, Aang had won. He had actually won. He didn’t need to be afraid of Ozai anymore. 

He didn’t need to be afraid of anything anymore. Everything was coming to an end. The war, the suffering, and, of course, the mystery of where he stood with Katara. 

He sat down on the edge of his bed just as Katara entered the room. She smiled at him, and if Aang didn’t know any better he’d say she was nervous. She had just faced down an utterly amoral Fire Princess and lived to tell the tale, and she was nervous talking to him? Aang didn’t know whether to take this as a good sign. 

Aang took her in as she sat down next to him. Her clothes smelled strongly of ash and less strongly of blood. Her hair was lank and disheveled, not the girlish smoothness of their early journeys nor the wild, beautiful tangle she’d worn post-invasion. Even in the darkness of the Fire Nation palace in the middle of the night, he could see bags under her eyes. Aang guessed that, between overthrowing the Fire Lord and, presumably, looking for him after he disappeared on that lion-turtle, she’d gotten one night’s worth of sleep in the last three. 

And yet, Katara was making the time to talk to him. To let me down easy, Aang tried to tell himself. Even if she did like him before Ember Island, he’d certainly done away with any chance he had with her when he had kissed her on that balcony. Stupid! He shouted at himself, as he had multiple times a day since it had happened. Might as well start with addressing that.

“I’m really sorry about what happened at the play,” Aang mumbled, staring at his bare feet, which swung lazily over the foot of the bed. His shoes had been a casualty of the battle of the century, and a thin, wispy burn forked across the top of his left foot to show for it.

“Aang, look at me,” Katara said. Aang obliged, a little embarrassed that he hadn’t been able to summon the courage to look her in the eyes while he apologized. He had just fought the Fire Lord, and now he was scared of the girl he’d been traveling with for months?

“It was stupid of me to kiss you out of the blue like that...or I guess it wasn’t out of the blue, we were talking about the invasion, but either way,” Aang rambled. “I’m sorry. It was dumb and wrong. And I’m sorry for yelling at you when we were all talking about whether I should kill Ozai. You were just trying to help. You’re always helping me, and I took it for granted.”

“It’s okay,” Katara said quickly, flatly. Aang couldn’t tell if her tone meant she hadn’t really forgiven him, or whether she just wanted him to move on to...what he really wanted to say. What he really could say, now that the war was over. 

“Aang, I want you to tell me how you feel.” Well, that put an end to that mystery. 

“Don’t you already know?” Aang asked, a bit rueful. But he swallowed his fear. He had been ready to confess his feelings to her at several points on their journey. On the Serpent’s Pass, before he had trained with Guru Pathik, before the invasion, on Ember Island...why was it so hard now?

Because she can reject me, and she no longer has the war as an excuse to soften the blow, Aang thought. 

But that was a possibility he had to face, too. And, if he had to let her go, he would. He was Avatar Aang. It was his duty. 

“I know, but I want you to say it,” Katara pushed. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Say it,” she repeated.

Aang took a deep breath. “I… I love you,” he said simply. Wasn’t that enough? Did she want him to elaborate? Katara looked at him, smiling. 

Wait, she was smiling? Did this mean--

“Go on,” she prodded.

“You’re kind, and you’re compassionate, and really, really pretty, but that’s the least of it,” Aang said, the words flowing out of him like a creek. He thought back to Guru Pathik, how he had said that unblocking chakras was like clearing a creek. This, technically, would be bringing back exactly the type of clogging weeds that Pathik had warned him about. But Aang didn’t care. This different creek needed to be cleared, too. It had been dammed up for too long for the sake of the world. Katara had asked him to let this creek flow, and he would. For her. 

“When I don’t have the world to worry about, my mind goes to you,” Aang continued. “And sometimes when I am supposed to be worrying about the world, I still think about you. You’ve been there for me every step, every day of this journey. And, maybe you don’t feel the same way about me, maybe you’re just been so good to me because that’s just the person you are for everyone, which is another thing I love about you, but if you don’t...if you don’t feel the same way about me, that’s okay,” Aang finished before he could lose whatever shred of passion and maturity he had built up. “But you asked me to say it, now I’ve said it.”

Katara was just looking at him, still silently smiling. She moved her hand off his shoulder, brushing gently down his arm and intertwining her fingers with his. She scooted closer to him, closing the awkward foot or so that separated them. 

Somehow, despite the new closeness and despite all her smiling (which she was still doing--what was with that?), Aang was now more sure than ever that she was going to reject him. “Really, it’s okay,” Aang said insistently, almost aggressively mature. “I can be a brother. As long as we’re good. As long as you don’t hate me for making things really weird.”

Katara ran her thumb along his knuckles. “Okay, Aang,” she said, her voice not a whisper, but soft enough for it to feel like her words would only be for him, even if they were surrounded by dozens of people. “Is it my turn?”

Aang snickered. “You asked me to talk! It can be your turn whenever you want!”

“Okay, then,” Katara giggled. “I think...I love you too.”

Delight sputtered in one of Aang’s chakras (he had already forgotten which one corresponded with what emotion, but whatever). Then he processed that she had said ‘I think’. No, he thought, dread replacing the brief spurt of delight.

“You think?” Aang asked, trying to sound as gentle as she’d been with him, and not indignant. Surely she hadn’t gotten him to pour his heart out to her to reject him this cruelly, right? Right?

“When I said I was confused on Ember Island,” Katara said, knitting their fingers more firmly together. “I meant it. But that doesn’t tell the whole story.”

Aang resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was still pretty new at this, but he was almost positive eye-rolling in courtship was a major no-no. “So what is the whole story?”

“When we first met, you were a funny, sweet little kid. But, even then, you were my window to a world beyond the South Pole. I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked you for that.”

“Because there’s no need to,” Aang said gallantly. 

“Yes, there is,” Katara said seriously, looking him dead in the eyes. “I was ready to live out the rest of my life in a hut, either marry someone much older than me if they ever returned from the war, or wait ten years or so until I had to marry someone who I had seen getting their diaper changed. And, obviously I would’ve never, ever learned real waterbending.”

“I can’t imagine you without waterbending now,” Aang said. “It seems like years ago when you could barely bend a puddle!”

“Don’t remind me,” Katara grumbled. But, again she moved her thumb along his hand. He was quickly beginning to like that. A lot. He hoped this was indication that there would be more where that came from in the future. 

“But now you’re the best waterbender in the world!”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

“I know about that,” Aang said, his voice coming out deep and smooth, like it had been in that candlelit cave. Just her, him, and a crowd of shy Fire Nation schoolchildren. But really, just her and him. 

“Agree to disagree,” Katara said, blushing (yes, beyond a shadow of a doubt, blushing). “But anyways, as the months went on, as I got to know you more and more, I started seeing you as an Avatar, not a kid.”

“Well, I am a kid,” Aang said, worried. He hadn’t wanted to be consumed by his role as the Avatar. It had been why he ran away from the Air Temple in the first place. Had he failed in this personal mission?

“Let me finish, Aang,” Katara said lightly. “All those things you said about me, I learned a lot of it from you. All those towns we visited, you’d do anything to help them without a second thought. You were growing up, and I started to really love the person you were growing into.”

“I had to help them. They needed me, and I already failed them all once by running away when I learned I was the Avatar,” Aang said glumly. 

“Don’t start with that,” Katara chided protectively. “I think you have officially made up for everything you did in the past, all those things that weren’t your fault anyways.”

“If you say so,” Aang joked. Now that he thought about it, she was absolutely right. He had gotten his honor back. He had atoned for his mistakes, and the mistakes of Roku before him. The world could celebrate the Avatar again. 

“But I think I first started thinking of you in the same way you thought of me after Ba Sing Se,” Katara said. “That day, we all lost our Avatar, but I lost you, and if it had just been the Avatar that was gone, our effort would’ve been crippled, but we would’ve persevered. I would’ve persevered. But Aang, you’re not just the Avatar. You’re you. And if I had lost you, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

Aang put his other hand on top of Katara’s, inadvertently showing off yet another burn, this one relatively mild, but corkscrewing all the way from his wrist to his elbow, in a perverted echo of his tattoos. “You’re gonna need a healing session,” she said tracing his burn with a cool finger. 

“Once you’re through with everyone else. And yourself,” Aang reminded her. She always tended to forget about her own needs when there were others suffering. It was a very airbender-like side of her. Aang loved it.

“I’ll live,” Katara said. 

“I know you’ll live,” Aang said, cheekily repeating her words to Zuko. She flicked his unburnt wrist with a finger, but immediately retook his hand. Aang smiled widely. She could barely break their contact for long enough to punish him for teasing her. 

“So what does this mean, then? For us?” Aang asked. Not that her confessions hadn’t been everything he’d dreamed of for months. But he was still confused. People could feel things and still not be together, Aang remembered, thinking of Sokka and Yue. 

Katara leaned down, putting her head on his shoulder as she’d done those couple times before when he felt like they might be close to...maybe...broaching this subject. On the beach, training, a few days after Hama. At the Western Temple, the morning after Zuko joined them. It was different now. It felt even better now. Even though her hair really did smell of ash, Aang leaned in too, resting his cheek against the crown of her head. 

But then she lifted herself off his shoulder (about an eternity too soon, if you asked Aang). “I think it means we know how we feel,” Katara said, her face morphing back into that soft smile, her eyes bluer and more alive than he’d seen them in months, or maybe ever. “I think it means we see where those feelings take us.”

Aang was still confused. Did she want to be his girlfriend? Was she explicitly avoiding using that word, meaning she wasn’t ready for that? Aang wished mastering the thirty-six levels of airbending included a secret thirty-seventh level, an ancient airbender technique for translating the words of women.

“So it means...you want to be together?” Aang asked, not to force her to say something honor-binding or anything like that, but a large part of him did want her to come out and say it. He supposed it was greedy. She had already basically confirmed her feelings a thousand times over in the last few minutes. But, just as she had needed to hear him say his truth, he needed to hear her say she loved him in this way, wanted to be with him in this way. 

Katara kissed his cheek. Nothing they hadn’t done before, nothing overly romantic, but it still made Aang feel like electricity was surging through his veins again. Exhilarating. Like he was holding lightning in the fingers that were intertwined with Katara’s. “Yes, Aang. I want to be with you. But I want to keep this between you and me, at least for a little bit. Let’s take things a little slow.”

Aang nodded. “We don’t have any reason to rush anymore. We have all the time in the rest of our--” Aang stopped himself before he could freak her out with some kind of premature marriage proposal. Baby, you’re my forever girl, he recalled saying in one of his pre-invasion fever dreams. “We can take it slow,” Aang said, regaining his flirting footing. 

“I love you, Aang,” Katara said, so simply it was like she had been saying it for decades, not minutes. She stood up, releasing his hands slowly, sliding her fingers across his one last time as she let go. Aang savored the contact, rueing how quickly his nerves seemed to forget the feeling of her skin on his. But then he remembered all they had said, the promises, spoken and unspoken. He didn’t have to try to hold on to every touch and every hug anymore (though he probably still would). There would be plenty more to come. 

“I love you too, Katara,” Aang whispered, his voice almost breaking. She walked down the hallway back to her room, and he listened to her soft boots echo on the marble floor until the only sound was air going into his nose and out of his mouth, his breaths full and free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the last time, I promised good Kataang, and I hope I delivered. Say what you will about the romantic side of their relationship being a little uncomfortable early on, in season 3, and especially by the last shot of the series, they reach OTP. That teashop kiss was perfection. I wouldn't dare try to upstage it with one of my own. I never wanted this fic to be a pairing/ship fic, I wanted to really try and fill in those few gaps in the plot, places the show didn't have time to fill in themselves. Those places were few and far between, which is why I'm ending this fic at 20 chapters.
> 
> But there's really not much analysis to offer with this chapter, so what I'll offer instead is my sincerest gratitude. When I posted the first chapter of this fic, it was really intended as a challenge for myself as a writer. I wanted to take this show that I loved and put my own mark on it, while staying as faithful to the plot, characters, and tone as possible. I never imagined this would get the level of support that it did, and I would certainly not have kept going all the way to 20 chapters without all the kudos and comments. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to every single one of you readers.
> 
> As for what's next for me in terms of fanfics, I really don't know. More ATLA is certainly an option, although my other passion is Star Wars, so I might try and cook something up for that universe. Either way, this fic has been a journey and I'm so, so thankful that you all decided to take it with me.
> 
> Flameo, hotmen,
> 
> \- Stotle

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is part of a collection of oneshots, "deleted scenes" from the series, as I like to think of it. Please kudos and review if you enjoyed!


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